
Book ^/^ ^ __ 



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COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



HOW TO WRITE 
SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

A HANDBOOK FOR REPORTERS, CORRESPONDENTS 

AND FREE-LANCE WRITERS WHO DESIRE TO 

CONTRIBUTE TO POPULAR MAGAZINES AND 

MAGAZINE SECTIONS OF NEWSPAPERS 

BY 

WILLARD GROSVENOR ELEYER, Ph.D, 

Author of "Newspaper Writing and Editing,'" and " Types of New* 

Writing " ; Director of the Course in Journalism 

in the University of Wisconsin 




BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 






COPYRIGHT, 1930, BY WILLARD GROSVBNOR BLEYKR 
ALL RIGHTS RKSERYKD 



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MAH k'- idZO 



tCbe &ibtr«tbe l^tti* 

CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
U . S . A 



©CI.A566269 



PREFACE 

This book is the result of twelve years' experience in 
teaching university students to write special feature 
articles for newspapers and popular magazines. By ap- 
plying the methods outlined in the following pages, young 
men and women have been able to prepare articles that 
have been accepted by many newspaper and magazine 
editors. The success that these students have achieved 
leads the author to believe that others who desire to write 
special articles may be aided by the suggestions given in 
this book. 

Although innumerable books on short-story writing 
have been pubUshed, no attempt has hitherto been made 
to discuss in detail the writing of special feature articles. 
In the absence of any generally accepted method of ap- 
proach to the subject, it has been necessary to work out 
a systematic classification of the various types of articles 
and of the different kinds of titles, beginnings, and similar 
details, as well as to supply names by which to identify 
them. 

A careful analysis of current practice in the writing of 
special feature stories and popular magazine articles is 
the basis of the methods presented. In this analysis an 
effort has been made to show the application of the prin- 
ciples of composition to the writing of articles. Examples 
taken from representative newspapers and magazines are 
freely used to illustrate the methods discussed. To en- 
courage students to analyze typical articles, the second 
part of the book is devoted to a collection of newspaper 
and magazine articles of various types, with an outhne for 
the analysis of them. 

Particular emphasis is placed on methods of popularizing 
such knowledge as is not available to the general reader. 
This has been done in the belief that it is important for the 
average person to know of the progress that is being made 
in every field of human endeavor, in order that he may, if 
possible, apply the results to his own affairs. The prob- 



iv PREFACE 

lem, therefore, is to show aspiring writers how to present 
discoveries, inventions, new methods, and every signifi- 
cant advance in knowledge, in an accurate and attractive 
form. 

To train students to write articles for newspapers and 
popular magazines may, perhaps, be regarded by some 
college instructors in composition as an undertaking 
scarcely worth their while. They would doubtless prefer 
to encourage their students to write what is commonly 
called 'literature." The fact remains, nevertheless, that 
the average undergraduate cannot write anything that 
approximates literature, whereas experience has shown 
that many students can write acceptable popular articles. 
Moreover, since the overwhelming majority of Americans 
read only newspapers and magazines, it is by no means 
an unimportant task for our universities to train writers 
to supply the steady demand for well-written articles. 
The late Walter Hines Page, founder of the World's Work 
and former editor of the Atlantic Monthly, presented the 
whole situation effectively in an article on ''The Writer 
and the University," when he wrote: 

The journeymen writers write almost all that almost all Amer- 
icans read. This is a fact that we love to fool ourselves about. 
We talk about ''literature" and we talk about ''hack writers," 
implying that the reading that we do is of literature. The truth 
all the while is, we read little else than the writing of the hacks — 
living hacks, that is, men and women who write for pay. We 
may hug the notion that our life and thought are not really 
affected by current literature, that we read the living writers 
only for utilitarian reasons, and that our real intellectual life is 
fed by the great dead \vTiters. But hugging this delusion does 
not change the fact that the intellectual life even of most edu- 
cated persons, and certainly of the mass of the population, is fed 
chiefly by the \\Titers of our own time. . . . 

Every editor of a magazine, every editor of an earnest and 
worthy newspaper, every publisher of books, has dozens or 
hundreds of important tasks for which he cannot find capable 
men; tasks that require scholarship, knowledge of science, or of 
politics, or of industry, or of literature, along with experience in 
writing accurately in the language of the people. 



PREFACE V 

Special feature stories and popular magazine articles 
constitute a type of writing particularly adapted to 
the ability of the novice, who has developed some facility 
in writing, but who may not have sufficient maturity 
or talent to undertake successful short-story writing or 
other distinctly literary work. Most special articles can- 
not be regarded as literature. Nevertheless, they afford 
the young writer an opportunity to develop whatever 
ability he possesses. Such writing teaches him four 
things that are invaluable to any one who aspires to do 
literary work. It trains him to observe what is going on 
about him, to select what will interest the average reader, 
to organize material effectively, and to present it attrac- 
tively. If this book helps the inexperienced writer, 
whether he is in or out of college, to acquire these four 
essential qualifications for success, it will have accom- 
pHshed its purpose. 

For permission to reprint complete articles, the author 
is indebted to the editors of the Boston Herald, the Chris- 
tian Science Monitor, the Boston Evening Transcript, the 
New York Evening Post, the Detroit News, the Milwaukee 
Journal, the Kansas City Star, the New York Sun, the 
Providence Journal, the Ohio State Journal, the New York 
World, the Saturday Evening Post, the Independent, the 
Country Gentleman, the Outlook, McClure's Magazine, 
Everybody's Magazine, the Delineator, the Pictorial Re- 
view, Munsey's Magazine, the American Magazine, System, 
Farm and Fireside, the Woman's Home Companion, the 
Designer, and the Newspaper Enterprise Association. The 
author is also under obligation to the many newspapers 
and magazines from which excerpts, titles, and other 
material have been quoted. 

At every stage in the preparation of this book the author 
has had the advantage of the cooperation and assistance 
of his wife, AHce Haskell Bleyer. 



University of Wisconsin 
Madison, August, 1919 



CONTENTS 

PART I 

I. The Field for Special Articles 3 

IL Preparation for Special Feature Writing . . 14 

- III. Finding Subjects and Material 25 

IV. Appeal and Purpose 39 

- V. Types of Articles 52 

VI. Writing the Article 99 

VII. How TO Begin 131 

VIII. Style 160 

IX. Titles and Headlines 170 

X. Preparing and Selling the Manuscript . . .182 
XI. Photographs and Other Illustrations . . .193 

PART II 

An Outline for the Analysis of Special Feature Arti- 
cles 201 

Teach Children Love of Art through Story-Telling 
{Boston Herald) 204 

Where Girls Learn to Wield Spade and Hoe (Christian 
Science Monitor) 206 

Boys in Search of Jobs {Boston Transcript) .... 209 

Girls and a Camp {New York Evening Post) .... 213 

Your Porter {Saturday Evening Post) 218 

The Gentle Art of Blowing Bottles {Independent) . 233 

The Neighborhood Playhouse {New York World) . . 240 

The Singular StOry of the Mosquito Man {New York 
Evening Post) 242 



viii CONTENTS 

A County Service Station {Country Gentleman) . . . 248 

Guarding a City's Water Supply {Detroit News) . . 260 

The Occupation and Exercise Cure {Outlook) . . . 264 

The Brennan Mono-Rail Car {McClure's Magazine). . 274 

A New Political Wedge {Everybody's Magazine) . . 281 

The Job Lady {Delineator) 293 

Mark Twain's First Sweetheart {Kansas City Star) . . 299 

Four Men of Humble Birth Hold World Destiny 'in 
their Hands {Milwaukee Journal) 305 

The Confessions of a College Professor's Wife {Satur- 
day Evening Post) 307 

A Par-idise for a Penny {Boston Transcript) . . . 326 

Wanted : A Home Assistant {Pictorial Review) . . . 331 

Six Years of Tea Rooms {New York Su7i) .... 336 

By Parcel Post {Country Gentleman) 341 

Sales without Salesmanship {Saturday Evening Post) . 349 

The Accident that Gave Us Wood-Pulp Paper {Mun- 
sey's Magazine) 356 

Centennial of the First Steamship to Cross the At- 
lantic {Providence Journal) 360 

Searching for the Lost Atlantis {Syndicate Sunday 
Magazine Section) 364 

Index 369 



HOW TO WRITE SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

PART I 



HOW TO WRITE 
SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

CHAPTER I 
THE FIELD FOR SPECIAL ARTICLES 

Origin of Special Articles. The rise of popular maga- 
zines and of magazine sections of daily newspapers during 
the last thirty years has resulted in a type of writing 
known as the " special feature article.'^ Such articles, 
presenting interesting and timely subjects in popular form, 
are designed to attract a class of readers that were not 
reached by the older literary periodicals. Editors of news- 
papers and magazines a generation ago began to realize 
that there was no lack of interest on the part of the general 
pubKc in scientific discoveries and inventions, in significant 
poKtical and social movements, in important persons and 
events. Magazine articles on these themes, however, had 
usually been written by specialists who, as a rule, did not 
attempt to appeal to the " man in the street," but were 
satisfied to reach a limited circle of well-educated readers. 

To create a larger magazine-reading public, editors un- 
dertook to develop a popular form and style that would 
furnish information as attractively as possible. The per- 
ennial appeal of fiction gave them a suggestion for the 
popularization of facts. The methods of the short story, 
of the drama, and even of the melodrama, applied to the 
presentation of general information, provided a means for 
catching the attention of the casual reader. 

Daily newspapers had already discovered the advantage 
of giving the day's news in a form that could be read rap- 
idly with the maximum degree of interest by the average 
man and woman. Certain so-called sensational papers 
had gone a step further in these attempts to give added 



4 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

attractiveness to news and had emphasized its melodra- 
matic aspects. Other papers had seen the value of the 
" human interest " phases of the day's happenings. It 
was not surprising, therefore, that Sunday editors of news- 
papers should undertake to apph^ to special articles the 
same methods that had proved successful in the treatment 
of news. 

The product of these efforts at popularization was the 
special feature article, mth its story-hke form, its touches 
of description, its '' human interest," its dramatic situa- 
tions, its character portrayal — all effectively used to 
furnish information and entertainment for that rapid 
reader, the '' average American." 

Definition of a Special Article. A special feature article 
may be defined as a detailed presentation of facts in an in- 
teresting form adapted to rapid reading, for the purpose of 
entertaining or informing the average person. It usually 
deals with (1) recent news that is of sufficient importance 
to warrant elaboration; (2) timely or seasonal topics not 
directly connected with news; or (3) subjects of general 
interest that have no immediate connection with current 
events. 

Although frequently concerned with news, the special 
feature article is more than a mere news story. It aims to 
supplement the bare facts of the news report by giving 
more detailed information regarding the persons, places, 
and circumstances that appear in the news columns. 
News must be published as fast as it develops, \\dth onlj?- 
enough explanatory material to make it intelUgible. The 
special article, written with the perspective afforded by an 
interval of a few days or weeks, fills in the bare outhnes of 
the hurried news sketch with the life and color that make 
the picture complete. 

The special feature article must not be confused with 
the type of news story called the " feature," or " human 
interest," story. The latter undertakes to present minor 
incidents of the day's news in an entertaining form. Like 
the important news story, it is published immediately 



THE FIELD FOR SPECIAL ARTICLES 5 

after the incident occurs. Its purpose is to appeal to 
newspaper readers by bringing out the humorous and pa- 
thetic phases of events that have Httle real news value. 
It exemplifies, therefore, merely one distinctive form of 
news report. 

The special feature article differs from the older type of 
magazine article, not so much in subject as in form and 
style. The most marked difference lies in the fact that it 
supplements the recognized methods of hterary and scien- 
tific exposition with the more striking devices of narrative, 
descriptive, and dramatic writing. 

Scope of Feature Articles. The range of subjects for 
special articles is as wide as human know^ledge and experi- 
ence. Any theme is suitable that can be made interesting 
to a considerable number of pei^ons. A given topic may 
make either a local or a general appeal. If interest in it is 
likely to be Hmited to persons in the immediate vicinity of 
the place with which the subject is connected, the article is 
best adapted to publication in a local newspaper. If the 
theme is one that appeals to a larger public, the article is 
adapted to a periodical of general circulation. Often local 
material has interest for persons in many other communi- 
ties, and hence is suitable either for newspapers or for 
magazines. 

Some subjects have a peculiar appeal to persons engaged 
in a particular occupation or devoted to a particular avoca- 
tion or amusement. Special articles on these subjects of 
limited appeal are adapted to agricultural, trade, or other 
class publications, particularly to such of these periodicals 
as present their material in a popular rather than a techni- 
cal manner. 

The Newspaper Field. Because of their number and 
their local character, daily newspapers afford a ready me- 
dium for the publication of special articles, or *' special 
feature stories," as they are generally called in newspaper 
ofl&ces. Some newspapers publish these articles from day 
to day on the editorial page or in other parts of the paper. 
Many more papers have magazine sections on Satm^day or 



6 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Sunday made up largely of such "stories." Some of these 
special sections closely resemble regular magazines in 
form, cover, and general make-up. 

The articles pubHshed in newspapers come from three 
sources: (1) syndicates that furnish a number of news- 
papers in different cities with special articles, illustrations, 
and other matter, for simultaneous pubHcation; (2) mem- 
bers of the newspaper's staff; that is, reporters, correspond- 
ents, editors, or special writers employed for the purpose; 
(3) so-called ''free-lance" writers, professional or amateur, 
who submit their ''stories" to the editor of the magazine 
section. 

Reporters, correspondents, and other regular members 
of the staff may be assigned to write special feature stories, 
or may prepare such stories on their own initiative for sub- 
mission to the editor of the magazine section. In many 
offices regular members of the staff are paid for special 
feature stories in addition to their salaries, especially when 
the subjects are not assigned to them and when the stories 
are prepared in the writer's own leisure time. Other pa- 
pers expect their regular staff members to furnish the paper 
with whatever articles they may write, as a part of the 
work covered by their salary. If a paper has one or more 
special feature writers on its staff, it may pay them a fixed 
salary or may employ them "on space"; that is, pay them 
at a fixed "space rate" for the number of columns that an 
article fills when printed. 

Newspaper correspondents, who are usually paid at 
space rates for news stories, may add to their monthly 
"string," or amount of space, by submitting special fea- 
ture articles in addition to news. They may also submit 
articles to other papers that do not compete with their own 
paper. Ordinarily a newspaper expects a correspondent 
to give it the opportunity of printing any special feature 
stories that he may write. 

Free-lance writers, who are not regularly employed by 
newspapers or magazines as staff members, submit articles 
for the editor's consideration and are paid at space rates. 



THE FIELD FOR SPECIAL ARTICLES 7 

Sometimes a free lance will outline an article in a letter or 
in personal conference with an editor in order to get his 
approval before writing it, but, unless the editor knows 
the writer's work, he is not likely to promise to accept the 
completed article. To the writer there is an obvious ad- 
vantage in knowing that the subject as he outlines it is or 
is not an acceptable one. If an editor hkes the work of a 
free lance, he may suggest subjects for articles, or may even 
ask him to prepare an article on a given subject. Free- 
lance writers, by selling their work at space rates, can often 
make more money than they would receive as regular 
members of a newspaper staff. 

For the amateur the newspaper offers an excellent field. 
First, in every city of any size there is at least one daily 
newspaper, and almost all these papers publish special 
feature stories. Second, feature articles on local topics, 
the material for which is right at the amateur's hand, are 
sought by most newspapers. Third, newspaper editors 
are generally less critical of form and style than are maga- 
zine editors. With some practice an inexperienced writer 
may acquire sufficient skill to prepare an acceptable spe- 
cial feature story for publication in a local paper, and even 
if he is paid little or nothing for it, he will gain experience 
from seeing his work in print. 

The space rate paid for feature articles is usually pro- 
portionate to the size of the city in which the newspaper is 
published. In small cities papers seldom pay more than 
SI a column; in larger places the rate is about $3 a column; 
in still larger ones, $5; and in the largest, from $8 to $10. 
In general the column rate for special feature stories is the 
same as that paid for news stories. 

What Newspapers Want. Since timeliness is the key- 
note of the newspaper, current topics, either growing out 
of the news of the week or anticipating coming events, 
furnish the subjects for most special feature stories. The 
news columns from day to day provide room for only con- 
cise announcements of such news as a scientific discovery, 
an invention, the death of an interesting person, a report 



8 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

on social or industrial conditions, proposed legislation, the 
razing of a landmark, or the dedication of a new building. 
Such news often arouses the reader's curiosity to know 
more of the persons, places, and circumstances mentioned. 
In an effort to satisfy this curiosity, editors of magazine 
sections print special feature stories based on nevv^s. 

By anticipating approaching events, an editor is able to 
supply articles that are timely for a particular issue of his 
paper. Two classes of subjects that he usually looks for- 
ward to in this way are: first, those concerned with local, 
state, and national anniversaries; and second, those grow- 
ing out of seasonal occasions, such as hoUdays, vacations, 
the opening of schools and colleges, moving days, com- 
mencements, the opening of hunting and fishing seasons. 

The general policy of a newspaper with regard to special 
feature stories is the same as its poHcy concerning news. 
Both are determined by the character of its circulation. A 
paper that is read largely by business and professional men 
provides news and special articles that satisfy such readers. 
A paper that aims to reach the so-called masses naturally 
selects news and features that will appeal to them. If a 
newspaper has a considerable circulation outside the city 
where it is published, the editors, in framing their pohcy, 
cannot afford to overlook their suburban and rural read- 
ers. The character of its readers, in a word, determines 
the character of a paper's special feature stories. 

The newspaper is primarily local in character. A city, a 
state, or at most a comparatively small section of the whole 
country, is its particular field. Besides the news of its 
locahty, it must, of course, give significant news of the 
world at large. So, too, in addition to local feature arti- 
cles, it should furnish special feature stories of a broader 
scope. This distinctively local character of newspapers 
differentiates them from magazines of national circulation 
in the matter of acceptable subjects for special articles. 

The frequency of pubhcation of newspapers, as well as 
their ephemeral character, leads, in many instances, to the 
choice of comparatively trivial topics for some articles. 



THE FIELD FOR SPECIAL ARTICLES 9 

Merely to give readers entertaining matter with which to 
occupy their leisure at the end of a day's work or on Sun- 
day, some papers print special feature stories on topics of 
little or no importance, often written in a Hght vein. Arti- 
cles with no more serious purpose than that of helping 
readers to while away a few spare moments are obviously 
better adapted to newspapers, which are read rapidly and 
immediately cast aside, than to periodicals. 

The sensationalism that characterizes the pohcy of some 
newspapers affects ahke their news columns and their 
magazine sections. Gossip, scandal, and crime lend them- 
selves to melodramatic treatment as readily in special 
feature articles as in news stories. On the other hand, the 
relatively few magazines that undertake to attract readers 
by sensationalism, usually do so by means of short stories 
and serials rather than by special articles. 

All newspapers, in short, use special feature stories on 
local topics, some papers print trivial ones, and others 
*'play up" sensational material; whereas practically no 
magazine pubUshes articles of these types. 

Sunday Magazine Sections. The character and scope 
of special articles for the Sunday magazine section of news- 
papers have been well summarized by two well-known 
editors of such sections. Mr. John O'Hara Cosgrove, edi- 
tor of the New York Sunday World Magazine, and for- 
merly editor of Everybody's Magazine, gives this as his 
conception of the ideal Sunday magazine section : 

The real function of the Sunday Magazine, to my thinking, is 
to present the color and romance of the news, the most authorita- 
tive opinions on the issues and events of the day, and to cln-oni- 
cle promptly the developments of science as applied to daily life. 
In the grind of human intercourse all manner of curious, heroic, 
delightful things turn up, and for the most part, are dismissed in a 
passing note. Behind every such episode are human beings and 
a story, and these, if fairly and artfully explained, are the very 
stuff of romance. Into every great city men are drifting daily 
from the strange and remote places of the world where they have 
survived perilous hazards and seen rare spectacles. Such adven- 
tures are the treasure troves of the skilful reporter. The cross 



10 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

currents and reactions that lead up to any explosion of greed or 
passion that we call crime are often worth following, not only for 
their plots, but as proofs of the pain and terror of transgression. 
Brave deeds or heroic resistances are all too seldom presented in 
full length in the news, and generously portrayed prove the no- 
bility inherent in every-day life. 

The broad domain of the Sunday magazine editor covers all 
that may be rare and curious or novel in the arts and sciences, 
in music and verse, in religion and the occult, on the stage and in 
sport. Achievements and controversies are ever culminating in 
these diverse fields, and the men and women actors therein make 
admirable subjects for his pages. Provided the editor has at his 
disposal skilled writers who have the fine arts of vivid and simple 
exposition and of the brief personal sketch, there is nothing of 
human interest that may not be presented. 

The ideal Sunday magazine, as Mr. Frederick Boyd 
Stevenson, Sunday editor of the Brooklyn Eagle, sees it, he 
describes thus: 

The new Sunday magazine of the newspaper bids fair to be a 
crisp, sensible review and critique of the live world. It has de- 
veloped a special line of writers who have learned that a charac- 
ter sketch and interview of a man makes you "see" the man face 
to face and talk with him yourself. If he has done anything that 
gives him a place in the news of to-day, he is presented to you. 
You know the man. 

It seems to me that the leading feature of the Sunday magazine 
should be the biggest topic that vnW be before the pubhc on the 
Sunday that the newspaper is printed. It should be written by 
one who thoroughly knows his subject, who is forceful in style 
and fluent' in words, who can make a picture that his readers 
can see, and seeing, realize. So every other feature of the Sun- 
day magazine should have points of human interest, either by con- 
tact with the news of the day or with men and women who are 
doing something besides getting divorces and creating scandals. 

I firmly believe that the coming Sunday magazine will contain 
articles of information without being dull or encyclopaedic, arti- 
cles of adventure that are real and timely, articles of scientific 
discoveries that are authentic, interviews with men and women 
who have messages, and interpretations of news and analyses of 
every-day themes, together with sketches, poems, and essays 
that are not tedious, but have a reason for being printed. 



THE FIELD FOR SPECIAL ARTICLES 11 

The Magazine Field. The great majority of magazines 
differ from all newspapers in one important respect — ex- 
tent of circulation. Popular magazines have a nation-wide 
distrijbution. It is only among agricultural and trade 
journals that we find a distinctly sectional circulation. 
Some of these publications serve subscribers in only one 
state or section, and others issue separate state or sectional 
editions. The best basis of differentiation among maga- 
zines, then, is not the extent of circulation but the class of 
readers appealed to, regardless of the part of the country 
in which the readers live. The popular general magazine, 
monthly or weeldy, aims to attract readers of all classes in 
all parts of the United States. 

How Magazines Get Material. Magazine articles come 
from (1) regular members of the magazine's staff, (2) pro- 
fessional or amateur free-lance writers, (3) specialists who 
write as an avocation, and (4) readers of the periodical 
who send in material based on their own experience. 

The so-called ''staff system" of magazine editing, in 
accordance with which practically all the articles are pre- 
pared by writers regularly employed by the publication, 
has been adopted by a few general magazines and by a 
number of class periodicals. The staff is recruited from 
writers and editors on newspapers and other magazines. 
Its members often perform various editorial duties in addi- 
tion to writing articles. Publications edited in this way 
buy few if any articles from outsiders. 

Magazines that do not follow the staff system depend 
largely or entirely on contributors. Every editor daily 
receives many manuscripts submitted by writers on their 
own initiative. From these he selects the material best- 
adapted to his publication. Experienced writers often 
submit an outline of an article to a magazine editor for his 
approval before preparing the material for publication. 
Free-lance writers of reputation may be asked by magazine 
editors to prepare articles on given subjects. 

In addition to material obtained in these ways, articles 
may be secured from speciahsts who write as an avocation.- 



12 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

An editor generally decides on the subject that he thinks 
will interest his readers at a given time and then selects the 
authority best fitted to treat it in a popular way. To in- 
duce well-known men to prepare such articles, an editor 
generally offers them more than he normally pays. 

A periodical may encourage its readers to send in short 
articles giving their own experiences and explaining how to 
do something in which they have become skilled. These 
personal experience articles have a reahty and ''human 
interest" that make them eminently readable. To obtain 
them magazines sometimes offer prizes for the best, re- 
serving the privilege of publishing acceptable articles that 
do not win an award. Aspiring writers should take ad- 
vantage of these prize contests as a possible means of 
getting both pubhcation and money for their work. 

Opportunities for Unknown Writers. The beHef is com- 
mon among novices that because they are unknown their 
work is Hkely to receive Httle or no consideration from edi- 
tors. As a matter of fact, in the majority of newspaper 
and magazine offices all unsolicited manuscripts are con- 
sidered strictly on their merits. The unknown writer has 
as good a chance as anybody of having his manuscript ac- 
cepted, provided that his work has merit comparable with 
that of more experienced writers. 

With the exception of certain newspapers that depend 
entirely on syndicates for their special features, and of a 
few popular magazines that have the staff system or that 
desire only the work of well-known writers, every pubhca- 
tion welcomes special articles and short stories by novices. 
Moreover, editors take pride in the fact that from time to 
time they ''discover" writers whose work later proves 
popular. They not infrequently tell how they accepted a 
short story, an article, or some verse by an author of whom 
they had never before heard, because they were impressed 
with the quality of it, and how the verdict of their readers 
confirmed their own judgment. 

The relatively small number of amateurs who undertake 
special articles, compared with the hundreds of thousands 



THE FIELD FOR SPECIAL ARTICLES 13 

who try their hand at short stories, makes the opportuni- 
ties for special feature writers all the greater. Then, too, 
the number of professional writers of special articles is 
comparatively small. This is particularly true of writers 
who are able effectively to popularize scientific and techni- 
cal material, as well as of those who can present in popular 
form the results of social and economic investigations. 

It is not too much to say, therefore, that any writer who 
is wilUng (1) to study the interests and the needs of news- 
paper and magazine readers, (2) to gather carefully the 
material for his articles, and (3) to present it accurately 
and attractively, may be sure that his work will receive the 
fullest consideration in almost every newspaper and maga- 
zine office in the country, and will be accepted whenever it 
is found to merit publication. 

Women as Feature Writers. Since the essential qualifi- 
cations just enumerated are not limited to men, women 
are quite as well fitted to write special feature and maga- 
zine articles as are their brothers in the craft. In fact, 
woman's quicker sympathies and readier emotional re- 
sponse to many phases of Uf e give her a distinct advantage. 
Her insight into the fives of others, and her intuitive un- 
derstanding of them, especially fit her to write good *' hu- 
man interest" articles. Both the delicacy of touch and 
the chatty, personal tone that characterize the work of 
many young women, are well suited to numerous topics. 

In some fields, such as cooking, sewing, teaching, the 
care of children, and household management, woman's 
greater knowledge and understanding of conditions fur- 
nish her with topics that are vital to other women and often 
not uninteresting to men. The entry of women into occu- 
pations hitherto open only to men is bringing new experi- 
ences to many women, and is furnishing women writers 
with additional fields from which to draw subjects and 
material. Ever since the beginning of popular magazines 
and of special feature writing for newspapers, women writ- 
ers have proved their ability, but at no time have the op- 
portunities for them been greater than at present. 



CHAPTER II 

PREPARATION FOR SPECIAL FEATURE WRITING 

Qualifications for Feature Writing. To attain success 
as a writer of special feature articles a person must possess 
at least four qualifications: (1) ability to find subjects that 
will interest the average man and woman, and to see the 
picturesque, romantic, and significant phases of these sub- 
jects; (2) a sympathetic understanding of the fives and in- 
terests of the persons about whom and for whom he writes; 

(3) thoroughness and accuracy in gathering material; 

(4) skill to portray and to explain clearly, accurately, and 
attractively. 

The much vaunted sense of news values commonly 
called a ''nose for news," whether innate or acquired, is a 
prime requisite. Like the newspaper reporter, the writer 
of special articles must be able to recognize what at a given 
moment will interest the average reader. Like the re- 
porter, also, he must know how much it will interest him. 
An alert, responsive attitude of mind toward everything 
that is going on in the world, and especially in that part of 
the world immediately around him, will reveal a host of 
subjects. By reading newspapers, magazines, and books, 
as well as by intercourse with persons of various classes, a 
writer keeps in contact with what people are thinking and 
talking about, in the world at large and in his own com- 
munity. In this way he finds subjects and also learns how 
to connect his subjects with events and movements of in- 
terest the country over. 

Not only should he be quick to recognize a good subject; 
he must be able to see the attractive and significant as- 
pects of it. He must understand which of its phases touch 
most closely the life and the interests of the average person 
for whom he is writing. He must look at things from "the 
other fellow's" point of view. A sympathetic insight into 



; PREPARATION FOR WRITING 15 

the lives of his readers is necessary for every writer who 
hopes to quicken his subject with vital interest. 

The alert mental attitude that constantly focuses the 
writer's attention on the men and women around him has 
been called "human curiosity/' which Arnold Bennett says 
"counts among the highest social virtues (as indifference 
counts among the basest defects), because it leads to the 
disclosure of the causes of character and temperament and 
thereby to a better understanding of the springs of human 
conduct." The importance of curiosity and of a keen sense 
of wonder has been emphasized as follows by Mr. John M. 
Siddall, editor of the American Magazine, who directed his 
advice to college students interested in the opportunities 
afforded by writing as a profession: 

A journalist or writer must have consuming curiosity about 
other human beings — the most intense interest in their doings 
and motives and thoughts. It comes pretty near being the truth 
to say that a great journalist is a super-gossip — not about triv- 
ial things but about important things. Unless a man has a cease- 
less desire to learn what is going on in the heads of others, he 
won't be much of a journalist — for how can you write about 
others unless you know about others? 

In journalism men are needed who have a natural sense of 
wonder. . . . You must wonder at man's achievements, at man's 
stupidity, at his honesty, crookedness, courage, cowardice — 
at everything that is remarkable about him wherever and when- 
ever it appears. If you have n't this sense of wonder, you will 
never write a novel or become a great reporter, because you 
simply won't see anything to write about. Men will be doing 
amazing things under your very eyes — and you won't even 
know it. 

Ability to investigate a subject thoroughly, and to 
gather material accurately, is absolutely necessary for 
any writer who aims to do acceptable work. Careless, in- 
accurate writers are the bane of the magazine editor's life. 
Whenever mistakes appear in an article, readers are sure 
to write to the editor calling his attention to them. More- 
over, the discovery of incorrect statements impairs the 



16 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

confidence of readers in the magazine. If there is reason 
to doubt the correctness of any data in an article, the edi- 
tor takes pains to check over the facts carefully before 
publication. He is not inclined to accept work a second 
time from a writer who has once proved unreliable. 

To interpret correctly the essential significance of data 
is as important as to record them accumtely. Readers 
want to know the meaning of facts and figm^es, and it is 
the writer's mission to bring out this meaning. A sympa- 
thetic understanding of the persons who figure in his arti- 
cle is essential, not only to portray them accurately, but to 
give his story the necessary ''human interest." To ob- 
serve accurately, to feel keenly, and to interpret sympa- 
thetically and correctly whatever he undertakes to write 
about, should be a writer's constant aim. 

Ability to write well enough to make the average person 
see as clearly, feel as keenly, and understand as well as he 
does himself the persons and things that he is portraying 
and explaining, is obviously the sine qua non of success. 
Ease, fluency, and originaHty of diction, either natural or 
acquired, the writer must possess if his work is to have dis- 
tinction. 

Training for Feature Writing. The ideal preparation 
for a writer of special articles would include a four-year 
college course, at least a year's work as a newspaper re- 
porter, and practical experience in some other occupation 
or profession in which the writer intends to specialize in 
his writing. Although not all persons who desire to do 
special feature work will be able to prepare themselves in 
this way, most of them can obtain some part of this pre- 
liminary training. 

A college course, although not absolutely essential for 
success, is generally recognized to be of great value as a 
preparation for writing. College training aims to develop 
the student's abihty to observe accurately, to think logi- 
cally, and to express his ideas clearly and effectively — all 
of which is vital to good special feature writing. In addi- 
tion, such a course gives a student a knowledge of many 



PREPARATION FOR WRITING 17 

subjects that he will find useful for his articles. A liberal 
education furnishes a background that is invaluable for all 
kinds of literary work. Universities also offer excellent 
opportunities for specialization. Intensive study in some 
one field of knowledge, such as agriculture, banking and 
finance, home economics, public health, social service, 
government and politics, or one of the physical sciences, 
makes it possible for a writer to specialize in his articles. 
In choosing a department in which to do special work in 
college, a student may be guided by his own tastes and in- 
terests, or he may select some field in which there is con- 
siderable demand for well trained writers. The man or 
woman with a specialty has a superior equipment for writ- 
ing. 

With the development of courses in journaHsm in many 
colleges and universities has come the opportunity to ob- 
tain instruction and practice, not only in the writing of 
special feature and magazine articles, but also in (Uews- 
paper reporting, editing, and short story writing. To 
write constantly under guidance and criticism, such as it is 
impossible to secure in newspaper and magazine offices, 
will develop whatever ability a student possesses. 

Experience as a newspaper reporter supplements college 
training in journalism and is the best substitute for college 
work generally available to persons who cannot go to col- 
lege. For any one who aspires to write, reporting has sev- 
eral distinct advantages and some dangers. 

The requirement that news be printed at the earliest 
possible moment teaches newspaper workers to collect 
facts and opinions quickly and to write them up rapidly 
under pressure. Newspaper work also develops a writer's 
appreciation of what constitutes news and what deter- 
mines news values; that is, it helps him to recognize at 
once, not only what interests the average reader, but how 
much it interests him. Then, too, in the course of his 
round of news gathering a reporter sees more of human life 
under a variety of circumstances than do workers in any 
other occupation. Such experience not only supphes him 



18 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

with an abundance of material, but gives him a better un- 
derstanding and a more sjrmpathetic appreciation of the 
life of all classes. 

To get the most out of his reporting, a writer must 
guard against two dangers. One is the temptation to be 
satisfied with superficial work hastily done. The necessity 
of writing rapidly under pressure and of constantly hand- 
ling similar material, encourages neglect of the niceties of 
structure and of style. In the rush of rapid writing, the 
importance of care in the choice of words and in the ar- 
rangement of phrases and clauses is easily forgotten. Even 
though well-edited newspapers insist on the highest possi- 
ble degree of accuracy in presenting news, the exigencies 
of newspaper publishing often make it impossible to verify 
facts or to attain absolute accuracy. Consequently a re- 
porter may drop into the habit of being satisfied with less 
thorough methods of collecting and presenting his mate- 
rial than are demanded by the higher standards of maga- 
zine writing. 

The second danger is that he may unconsciously permit 
a more or less cynical attitude to replace the healthy, op- 
timistic outlook with which he began his work. With the 
seamy side of life constantly before him, he may find 
that his faith in human nature is being undermined. If, 
however, he loses his idealism, he cannot hope to give his 
articles that sincerity, hopefulness, and constructive spirit 
demanded by the average reader, who, on the whole, re- 
tains his behef that truth and righteousness prevail. 

Of the relation of newspaper reporting to the writing of 
magazine articles and to magazine editing, Mr. Howard 
Wheeler, editor of Everybody's Magazine, has said : 

It is the trained newspaper men that the big periodical pub- 
lishers are reaching out for. The man who has been through the 
newspaper mill seems to have a distinct edge on the man who 
enters the field without any newspaper training. 

The nose for news, the ability to select and play up leads, the 
feel of what is of immediate public interest is just as important in 
magazine work as in newspaper work. 



PREPARATION FOR WRITING 19 

Fundamentally the purpose of a magazine article is the same 
as the purpose of a newspaper story — to tell a tale, to tell it 
directly, convincingly, and interestingly. 

Practical experience in the field of his specialty is of ad- 
vantage in familiarizing a writer with the actual condi- 
tions about which he is preparing himself to write. To 
engage for some time in farming, railroading, household 
management, or any other occupation, equips a person to 
write more intelligently about it. Such practical experi- 
ence either supplements college training in a special field, 
or serves as the best substitute for such specialized educa- 
tion. 

What Editors Want. All the requirements for success in 
special feature writing may be reduced to the trite dictum 
that editors want what they believe their readers want. 
Although a commonplace, it expresses a point of view that 
aspiring writers are apt to forget. From a purely com- 
mercial standpoint, editors are middlemen who buy from 
producers what they believe they can sell to their custom- 
ers. Unless an editor satisfies his readers with his articles, 
they will cease to buy his pubHcation. If his literary 
wares are not what his readers want, he finds on the news- 
stands unsold piles of his publication, just as a grocer finds 
on his shelves faded packages of an unpopular breakfast 
food. Both editor and grocer undertake to buy from the 
producers what will have a ready sale and will satisfy their 
customers. 

The writer, then, as the producer, must furnish wares 
that will attract and satisfy the readers of the periodical to 
which he desires to sell his product. It is the ultimate 
consumer, not merely the editor, that he must keep in 
mind in selecting his material and in writing his article. 
''Will the reader like this?" is the question that he must 
ask himself at every stage of his work. Unless he can con- 
vince himself that the average person who reads the peri- 
odical to which he proposes to submit his article will hke 
what he is writing, he cannot hope to sell it to the editor. 



20 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Understanding the Reader. Instead of thinking of 
readers as a more or less indefinite mass, the writer will find 
it advantageous to picture to himself real persons who may- 
be taken as typical readers. It is very easy for an author 
to think that what interests him and his immediate circle 
will appeal equally to people in general. To write success- 
fully, however, for the Sunday magazine of a newspaper, 
it is necessary to keep in mind the butcher, the baker, and 
— if not the candlestick-maker, at least the stenographer 
and the department store clerk — as well as the doctor, 
lawyer, merchant, and chief. What is true of the Sunday 
newspaper is true of the popular magazine. 

The most successful publisher in this coimtry attributes 
the success of his periodical to the fact that he kept before 
his mind's eye, as a type, a family of his acquaintance in a 
Middle- Western town of fifteen hundred inhabitants, and 
shaped the policy of his pubHcation to meet the needs and 
interests of all its members. An editor who desired to 
reach such a family would be immeasurably helped in se- 
lecting his material by trying constantly to judge from their 
point of view whatever passed through his hands. It is 
equally true that a writer desiring to gain admittance to 
that magazine, or to others making the same appeal, would 
greatly profit by visualizing as vividly as possible a similar 
family. Every successful writer, consciously or uncon- 
sciously, thus pictures his readers to himself. 

If, for example, an author is preparing an article for an 
agricultural journal, he must have in his mind's eye an 
average farmer and this farmer's family. Not only must 
he see them in their surroundings; he must try to see life 
from their point of view. The attitude of the typical city 
man toward the farm and country life is very different 
from that of the countryman. Lack of sympathy and in- 
sight is a fatal defect in many an article intended by the 
writer for farm readers. 

Whatever the publication to which an author desires to 
contribute, he should consider first, last, and all the time, 
its readers — their surroundings, their education, their in- 



PREPARATION FOR WRITING 21 

come, their ambitions, their amusements, their prejudices 
— in short, he must see them as they really are. 

The necessity of understanding the reader and his point 
of view has been well brought out by Mr. John M. Siddall, 
editor of the American Magazine, in the following excerpt 
from an editorial in that periodical: 

The man who refuses to use his imagination to enable him to 
look at things from the other fellow's point of view simply cannot 
exercise wide influence. He cannot reach people. 

Underneath it, somehow, lies a great law, the law of service. 
You can't expect to attract people unless you do something for 
them. The business man who has something to sell must have 
something useful to sell, and he must talk about it from the point 
of view of the people to whom he wants to sell his goods. In the 
same way, the journalist, the preacher, and the politician must 
look at things from the point of view of those they would reach. 
They must feel the needs of others and then reach out and meet 
those needs. They can never have a large following unless they 
give something. The same law runs into the human relation. 
How we abhor the man who talks only about himself — the man 
who never inquires about owr troubles, our problems; the man 
who never puts himself in our place, but unimaginatively and 
unsympathetically goes on and on, egotistically hammering 
away on the only subject that interests him — namely himself. 

Studjn^ng Newspapers and Magazines. Since every suc- 
cessful pubhcation may be assumed to be satisfying its 
readers to a considerable degree, the best way to deter- 
mine what kind of readers it has, and what they are inter- 
ested in, is to study the contents carefully. No writer 
should send an article to a publication before he has ex- 
amined critically several of its latest issues. In fact, no 
writer should prepare an article before deciding to just 
what periodical he wishes to submit it. The more familiar 
he is with the periodical the better are his chances of hav- 
ing his contribution accepted. 

In analyzing a newspaper or magazine in order to deter- 
mine the type of reader to which it appeals, the writer 
should consider the character of the subjects in its recent 



22 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

issues, and the point of view from which these subjects are 
presented. Every successful periodical has a distinct in- 
dividuality, which may be regarded as an expression of the 
editor's idea of what his readers expect of his publication. 
To become a successful contributor to a periodical, a writer 
must catch the spirit that pervades its fiction and its edi- 
torials, as well as its special articles. 

In his effort to determine the kind of topics preferred by 
a given publication, a writer may at first glance decide that 
timeliness is the one element that dominates their choice, 
but a closer examination of the articles in one or more is- 
sues will reveal a more specific basis of selection. Thus, 
one Sunday paper will be found to contain articles on the 
latest poHtical, sociological, and literary topics, while an- 
other deals almost exclusively with society leaders, actors 
and actresses, and other men and women whose recent ex- 
periences or adventures have brought them into prominence. 

It is of even greater value to find out by careful reading 
of the entire contents of several numbers of a periodical, 
the exact point of view from which the material is treated. 
Every editor aims to present the contents of his publica- 
tion in the way that will make the strongest appeal to his 
readers. This point of view it is the writer's business to 
discover and adopt. 

Analysis of Special Articles. An inexperienced writer 
who desires to submit special feature stories to newspapers 
should begin by analyzing thoroughly the stories of this 
type in the daily papers published in his own section of the 
country. Usually in the Saturday or Sunday issues he 
will find typical articles on topics connected with the city 
and with the state or states in which the paper circulates. 
The advantage of beginning his study of newspaper stories 
with those published in papers near his home hes in the 
fact that he is familiar with the interests of the readers of 
these papers and can readily understand their point of 
view. By noting the subjects, the point of view, the form, 
the stjde, the length, and the illustrations, he will soon dis- 
cover what these papers want, or rather, what the readers 



PREPARATION FOR WRITING 23 

of these papers want. The ''Outline for the Analysis of 
Special Articles" in Part II will indicate the points to 
keep in mind in studying these articles. 

In order to get a broader knowledge of the scope and 
character of special feature stories, a writer may well ex- 
tend his studies to the magazine sections of the leading 
papers of the country. From the work of the most experi- 
enced and original of the feature writers, which is generally 
to be found in these metropolitan papers, the novice will 
derive no little inspiration as well as a valuable knowledge 
of technique. 

The methods suggested for analyzing special feature 
stories in newspapers are applicable also to the study of 
magazine articles. Magazines afford a better opportunity 
than do newspapers for an analysis of the different types of 
articles discussed in Chapter V. Since magazine articles 
are usually signed, it is possible to seek out and study the 
work of various successful authors in order to determine 
wherein lies the effectiveness of their writing. Beginning 
with the popular weekly and monthly magazines, a writer 
may well extend his study to those periodicals that appeal 
to particular classes, such as women's magazines, agricul- 
tural journals, and trade publications. 

Ideals in Feature Writing. After thoughtful analysis of 
special articles in all kinds of newspapers and magazines, 
the young writer with a critical sense developed by reading 
English literature may come to feel that much of the writ- 
ing in periodicals falls far short of the standards of excel- 
lence established by the best authors. Because he finds 
that the average uncritical reader not only accepts com- 
monplace work but is apparently attracted by meretri- 
cious devices in writing, he may conclude that high literary 
standards are not essential to popular success. The temp- 
tation undoubtedly is great both for editors and writers to 
supply articles that are no better than the average reader 
demands, especially in such ephemeral publications as 
newspapers and popular magazines. Nevertheless, the 
writer who yields to this temptation is sure to produce 



24 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

only mediocre work. If he is satisfied to write articles 
that will be characterized merely as '^acceptable," he will 
never attain distinction. 

The special feature writer owes it both to himself and to 
his readers to do the best work of which he is capable. It 
is his privilege not only to inform and to entertain the pub- 
lic, but to create better taste and a keener appreciation of 
good writing. That readers do not demand better writing 
in their newspapers and magazines does not mean that they 
are unappreciative of good work. Nor do originahty and 
precision in style necessarily ''go over the heads" of the 
average person. Whenever writers and editors give the 
public something no better than it is willing to accept, 
they neglect a great opportunity to aid in the development 
of better hterary taste, particularly on the part of the pub- 
lic whose reading is largely confined to newspapers and 
periodicals. 

Because of the commerical value of satisfying his read- 
ers, an editor occasionally assumes that he must give all of 
them whatever some of them crave. "We are only giving 
the public w^hat it wants," is his excuse for printing fiction 
and articles that are ob^dously demoralizing in their effect. 
A heterogeneous pubhc inevitably includes a considerable 
number of individuals who are attracted by a suggestive 
treatment of morbid phases of hfe. To cater to the low 
desires of some readers, on the ground of "giving the pub- 
lic what it wants," mil always be regarded by self-respect- 
ing editoi's and authors as indefensible. 

The writer's opportunity to influence the mental, moral, 
and aesthetic ideals of hundreds of thousands of readers is 
much greater than he often reahzes. When he considers 
the extent to which most men and women are uncon- 
sciously guided in their ideas and aspirations by what they 
read in newspapers and magazines, he cannot fail to appre- 
ciate his responsibihty. Grasping the full significance of 
his special feature writing, he will no longer be content to 
write just well enough to sell his product, but will deter- 
mine to devote his effort to producing articles that are the 
best of which he is capable. 



CHAPTER III 
FINDING SUBJECTS AND MATERIAL 

Sources of Subjects. "What shall I write about?" is 
the first question that inexperienced writers ask their Kter- 
ary advisers. "If you have n't anything to write about, 
why write at all?" might be an easy answer. Most per- 
sons, as a matter of fact, have plenty to write about but do 
not realize it. Not lack of subjects, but inability to recog- 
nize the possibiKties of what hes at hand, is their real diffi- 
culty. 

The best method of finding subjects is to look at every 
person, every event, every experience — in short, at every- 
thing — with a view to seeing whether or not it has possi- 
bilities for a special feature article. Even in the appar- 
ently prosaic round of everyday fife will be found a variety 
of themes. A circular letter from a business firm announc- 
ing a new poKcy, a classified advertisement in a newspaper, 
the complaint of a scrub-woman, a new variety of fruit in 
the grocer's window, an increase in the price of laundry 
work, a hurried luncheon at a cafeteria — any of the hun- 
dred and one daily experiences may suggest a "five" topic 
for an article. 

"Every foot of ground is five feet deep with subjects; all 
you have to do is to scratch the surface for one, " declared 
the editor of a popular magazine who is also a successful 
writer of special articles. This statement may be taken as 
hterally true. Within the narrow confines of one's house 
and yard, for instance, are many topics. A year's experi- 
ence with the family budget, a home-made device, an at- 
tempt to solve the servant problem, a method of making 
pin-money, a practical means of economizing in household 
management, are forms of personal experience that may be 
made interesting to newspaper and magazine readers. A 
garden on a city lot, a poultry house in a back yard, a novel 



26 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

form of garage, a new use for a gasoline engine, a labor- 
saving device on the farm, may afford equally good topics. 
One's own experience, always a rich field, may be supple- 
mented by experiences of neighbors and friends. 

A second source of subjects is the daily newspaper. Lo- 
cal news will give the writer clues that he can follow up by 
visiting the places mentioned, interviewing the persons con- 
cerned, and gathering other relevant material. When 
news comes from a distance, he can write to the persons 
most likely to have the desired information. In neither 
case can he be sure, until he has investigated, that an item 
of news will prove to contain sufiicient available material 
for an article. Many pieces of news, however, are worth 
running down carefully, for the day's events are rich in 
possibilities. 

Pieces of news as diverse as the following may suggest 
excellent subjects for special articles: the death of an inter- 
esting person, the sale of a building that has historic associ- 
ations, the meeting of an uncommon group or organiza- 
tion, the approach of the anniversary of an event, the elec- 
tion or appointment of a person to a position, an unusual 
occupation, an odd accident, an auction, a proposed munic- 
ipal improvement, the arrival of a well-known person, an 
official report, a legal decision, an epidemic, the arrest of a 
noted criminal, the passing of an old custom, the pubhca- 
tion of the city directory, a railroad accident, a marked 
change in fashion in dress. 

A third source of both subjects and material is the report 
of special studies in some field, the form of the report rang- 
ing from a paper read at a meeting to a treatise in several 
volumes. These reports of experiments, surveys, investi- 
gations, and other forms of research, are to be found in 
printed bulletins, monographs, proceedings of organiza- 
tions, scientific periodicals, and new books. Government 
pubhcations — federal, state, and local — giving results of 
investigative work done by bureaus, commissions, and 
committees, are pubUc documents that may usually be had 
free of charge. Technical and scientific periodicals and 



FINDING SUBJECTS AND MATERIAL 27 

printed proceedings of important organizations are gener- 
ally available at public libraries. 

As Mr. Waldemar Kaempffert, editor of Popular Sci- 
ence Monthly, has said: 

There is hardly a paper read before the Royal Institution or 
the French Academy or our American engineering and chemical 
societies that cannot be made dramatically interesting from a 
human standpoint and that does not chronicle real news. 

''If you want to publish something where it will never 
be read/' a wit has observed, ''print it in an official docu- 
ment." Government reports are filled with valuable in- 
formation that remains quite unknown to the average 
reader unless newspapers and magazines unearth it and 
present it in popular form. The popularization of the con- 
tents of all kinds of scientific and technical publications 
affords great opportunities for the writer who can present 
such subjects effectively. 

In addressing students of journalism on "Science 'and 
Journalism," Dr. Edwin E. Slosson, Hterary editor of the 
Independent, who was formerly a professor of chemistry, 
has said: 

The most radical ideas of our day are not apt to be found in the 
popular newspaper or in queer little insurrectionary, heretical 
and propaganda sheets that we occasionally see, but in the tech- 
nical journals and proceedings of learned societies. The real 
revolutions are hatched in the laboratory and study. The pa- 
pers read before the annual meetings of the scientific societies, 
and for the most part unnoticed by the press, contain more dyna- 
mite than was ever discovered in any anarchist's shop. Political 
revolutions merely change the form of government or the name 
of the party in power. Scientific revolutions really turn the 
world over, and it never settles back into its former position. 

The beauty and meaning of scientific discoveries can be re- 
vealed to the general reader if there is an intermediary who can 
understand equally the language of the laboratory and of the 
street. The modern journalist knows that anything can be made 
interesting to anybody, if he takes pains enough with the writing 
of it. It is not necessary, either, to pervert scientific truths in 



28 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

the process of translation into the vernacular. The facts are sen- 
sational enough without any picturesque exaggeration. 

The field is not an unprofitable one even in the mercenary 
sense. To higher motives the task of popularizing science makes 
a still stronger appeal. Ignorance is the source of most of our 
ills. Ignorant we must always be of much that we need to know, 
but there is no excuse for remaining ignorant of what somebody 
on earth knows or has known. Rich treasure lies hidden in what 
President Oilman called 'Hhe bibliothecal cairn" of scientific 
monographs which piles up about a university. The journalist 
might well exchange the muckrake for the pick and dig it out. 

Nothing could accelerate human progress more than to reduce 
the time between the discovery of a new truth and its application 
to the needs of mankind. ... It is regarded as a great journahstic 
achievement when the time of transmission of a cablegram is 
shortened. But how much more important it is to gain a few 
years in learning what the men who are in advance of their age 
are doing than to gain a few seconds in learning what the people 
of Europe are doing? This lag in intellectual progress ... is 
something which it is the especial duty of the journalist to re--^ 
move. He likes to score a beat of a few hours. Very well, if he 
will turn his attention to science, he can often score a beat of ten 
years. 

The three main sources, therefore, of subjects and ma- 
terial for special feature and magazine articles are (1) per- 
sonal observation and experience, (2) newspapers, (3) sci- 
entific and technical pubHcations and official reports. 

Personal Observation. How a writer may discover sub- 
jects for newspaper feature articles in the course of his daily 
routine by being alive to the possibilities around him can 
best be shown by concrete examples. 

A ''community sing" in a pubHc park gave a woman 
writer a good subject for a special article published in the 
Philadelphia North American. 

In the pubHcation of a city directory was found a timely- 
subject for an article on the task of getting out the annual 
directory in a large city; the story was printed in a Sunday 
issue of the Boston Herald. 

A gUmpse of some children dressed like Arctic explorers 



FINDING SUBJECTS AND MATERIAL 29 

in an outdoor school in Kansas City was evidently the 
origin of a special feature story on that institution, which 
was published in the Kansas City Star. 

A woman standing guard one evening over a partially 
completed school building in Seattle suggested a special 
feature in the Seattle Post Intelligencer on the unusual oc- 
cupation of night ''watchman" for a woman. 

While making a purchase in a drug store, a writer over- 
heard a clerk make a request for a deposit from a woman 
who desired to have a prescription filled, an incident which 
led him to write a special feature for the New York Times 
on this method of discouraging persons from adding to the 
drug store's ''morgue" of unclaimed prescriptions. 

From a visit to the Children's Museum in Brooklyn was 
developed a feature article for the New York Herald, and 
from a story-telling hour at the Boston Museum of Fine 
Arts was evolved a f eatm-e story for the Boston Herald on 
the telling of stories as a means of interesting children in 
pictures. 

Magazine articles also may originate in the writer's ob- 
servation of what is going on about him. The specific in- 
stances given below, like those already mentioned, will 
indicate to the inexperienced writer where to look for in- 
spiration. 

A newspaper reporter who covered the criminal courts 
compiled the various methods of burglars and sneak 
thieves in gaining entrance to houses and apartments, as 
he heard them related in trials, and wrote a helpful article 
for Good Housekeeping on how to protect one's house 
against robbery. 

The exhibition of a novel type of rack for curing seed 
corn gave a writer a subject for an article on this "corn 
tree, " which was published in the Illustrated World. 

During a short stop at a farm while on an automobile 
trip, a woman writer noticed a concrete storage cellar for 
vegetables, and from an interview with the farmer ob- 
tained enough material for an article, which she sold to 
a farm journal. 



so SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

While a woman writer was making a pm'chase in a 
plumber's shop, the plumber was called to the telephone. 
On returning to his customer, he remarked that the call 
was from a woman on a farm five miles from town, who 
could easily have made the shght repairs herself if she had 
known a little about the water-supply system on her farm. 
From the material which the writer obtained from the 
plumber, she wrote an article for an agricultural paper on 
how plumber's bills can be avoided. 

A display of canned goods in a grocer's window, with 
special prices for dozen and case lots, suggested an ar- 
ticle, afterwards published in the Merchants Trade Jour- 
nal, on this grocer's method of fighting mail-order com- 
petition. 

Personal Experience. What we actually do ourselves, 
as well as what we see others do, may be turned to good 
use in writing articles. Personal experiences not only 
afford good subjects and plenty of material but are more 
easily handled than most other subjects, because, being 
very real and vital to the writer, they can the more readily 
be made real and vital to the reader. Many inexperienced 
writers overlook the possibiUties of what they themselves 
have done and are doing. 

To gain experience and impressions for their articles, 
special writers on newspapers even assume temporarily 
the roles of persons whose lives and experiences they desire 
to portray. One Chicago paper featured every Sunday 
for many weeks articles by a reporter who, in order to get 
material, did a variety of things just for one day, from 
playing in a strolling street band to impersonating a con- 
vict in the state penitentiary. Thirty years ago, when 
women first entered the newspaper field as special feature 
writers, they were sometimes sent out on *' freak '* assign- 
ments for special features, such as feigning injury or insan- 
ity in order to gain entrance to hospitals in the guise of pa- 
tients. Recently one woman writer posed as an applicant 
for a position as moving-picture actress; another applied 
for a place as housemaid; a third donned overalls and 



FINDING SUBJECTS AND MATERIAL 31 

sorted scrap-iron all day in the yard of a factory; and still 
another accompanied a store detective on his rounds in 
order to discover the methods of shop-lifting with which 
department stores have to contend. 

It is not necessary, however, to go so far afield to obtain 
personal experiences, as is shown by the following news- 
paper and magazine articles based on what the writers 
found in the course of their everyday pursuits. 

The results obtained from cultivating a quarter-acre lot 
in the residence district of a city of 100,006 population 
were told by a writer in the Country Gentleman. 

A woman^s experience with bees was related in Good 
Housekeeping under the title, "What I Did with Bees." 

Experience in screening a large porch on his house fur- 
nished a writer with the necessary information for a practi- 
cal story in Popular Mechanics. 

Some tests that he made on the power of automobiles 
gave a young engineer the suggestion for an article on the 
term ** horse power" as apphed to motor-cars; the article 
was pubhshed in the Illustrated World. 

"Building a Business on Confidence" was the title of a 
personal experience article pubhshed in System. 

The evils of tenant farming, as illustrated by the experi- 
ences of a farmer's wife in moving during the very early 
spring, were vividly depicted in an article in Farm and Fire- 
side. 

The diary of an automobile trip from Chicago to Buffalo 
was embodied in an article by a woman writer, which she 
sold to the Woman's Home Companion. 

Both usual and unusual means employed to earn their 
college expenses have served as subjects for many special 
articles written by undergraduates and graduates. 

Innumerable articles of the "how-to-do-something" 
type are accepted every year from inexperienced writers by 
publications that print such useful information. Results 
of experiments in solving various problems of household 
management are so constantly in demand by women's 
magazines and women's departments in newspapers, that 



32 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

housewives who hke to write find a ready market for arti- 
cles based on their own experience. 

Confession Articles. One particular type of personal 
experience article that enjoys great popularity is the so- 
called ''confession story." Told in the first person, often 
anon^Tnously, a well-written confession article is one of the 
most effective forms in which to present facts and experi- 
ences. 

Personal experiences of others, as well as the TVTiter's 
own, may be given in confession form if the writer is able 
to secure sufl&ciently detailed infonnation from some one 
else to make the story probable. 

A few examples will illustrate the kind of subjects that 
have been presented successfully in the confession form. 

Some criticisms of a tjT^ical college and of college life 
were given anonymously in the Outlook imder the title, 
"The Confessions of an Undergraduate." 

"The Story of a Su mm er Hotel Waitress," pubhshed in 
the Independent, and characterized b}^ the editor as "a 
frank exposure of real life below stairs in the average sum- 
mer hotel, " told how a student in a normal school tried to 
earn her school expenses by serving, as a waitress during 
the summer vacation. 

In Farm and Fireside was pubhshed "The Confession of 
a Timber Buyer," an article exposing the methods em- 
ployed by some unscrupulous lumber companies in bujdng 
timber from farmers. 

" How I Cured Myself of Being Too Sensitive, " with the 
sub-title, "The Autobiography of a Young Business Man 
Who Nearly Went to Smash through Jealousy," was the 
subject of a confession article in the American Magazine. 

An exposm^e of the impositions practiced by an itinerant 
quack was made in a series of three confession articles, in 
Sunday issues of the Kansas City Star, written by a j^oung 
man whom the doctor had employed to drive him through 
the country districts. 

To secure confession features from readers, magazines 
have offered prizes for the best short articles on such top- 



FINDING SUBJECTS AND MATERIAL S3 

ics as, "The Best Thing Experience has Taught Me/' 
"How I Overcame My Greatest Fault," "The Day of My 
Great Temptation, " "What Will Power Did for Me." 

Subjects from the Day's News. In his search for sub- 
jects a writer will find numberless clues in newspapers. 
Since the first information concerning all new things is 
usually given to the world through the columns of the daily 
press, these columns are scanned carefully by writers in 
search of suggestions. Any part of the paper, from the 
"want ads" to the death notices or the real estate trans- 
fers, may be the starting point of a special article. The 
diversity of topics suggested by newspapers is shown by 
the following examples. 

The death of a well-known clown in New York was fol- 
lowed by a special feature story about him in the Sunday 
magazine section of a Chicago paper. 

A newspaper report of the discovery in Wisconsin of a 
method of eliminating printing ink from pulp made from 
*old newspapers, so that white print paper might be pro- 
duced from it, led a young writer to send for information 
to the discoverer of the process, and with these additional 
details he wrote an article that was pubHshed in the Boston 
Transcript. 

A news story about a clever swindler in Boston, who ob- 
tained possession of negotiable securities by means of a 
forged certified check, was made the basis of a special fea- 
ture story in the Providence Journal on the precailtions to 
be taken against losses from forged checks. 

News of the energetic manner in which a New Jersey 
sheriff handled a strike suggested a personality sketch of 
him that appeared in the American Magazine. 

The publication, in a newspaper, of some results of a sur- 
vey of rural school conditions in a Middle Western state, 
led to two articles on why the little red schoolhouse fails, 
one of which was published in the Country Gentleman, and 
the other in the Independent. 

From a brief news item about the success of a farmer's 
widow and her daughter, in taking summer boarders in 



34 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

their old farmhouse, was developed a practical article tell- 
ing how to secure and provide for these boarders on the 
ordinary farm. The article appeared in Farm and Fireside. 

Official Documents. Bulletins and reports of government 
officials are a mine for both subjects and material. For 
new developments in agriculture one may consult the bul- 
letins of the United States Department of Agriculture and 
those of state agricultural experiment stations. Reports 
on new and better methods of preparing food, and other 
phases of home economics, are also printed in these bulle- 
tins. State industrial commissions pubHsh reports that 
furnish valuable material on industrial accidents, working- 
men's insurance, sanitary conditions in factories, and the 
health of workers. Child welfare is treated in reports of 
federal, state, and city child-welfare boards. The reports 
of the Interstate Commerce Commission, Uke those of 
state railroad commissions, contain interesting material on 
various phases of transportation. State and federal census 
reports often furnish good subjects and material. In 
short, nearly every official report of any kind may be a 
fruitful source of ideas for special articles. 

The few examples given below suggest various possibili- 
ties for the use of these sources. 

Investigations made by a commission of American medi- 
cal experts constituting the Committee on Resuscitation 
from Mine Gases, under the direction of the U.S. Bureau 
of Mines, supplied a writer in the Boston Transcript with 
material for a special featiue story on the dangers involved 
in the use of the pulmotor. 

A practical bulletin, prepared by the home economics 
department of a state university, on the best arrangement 
of a kitchen to save needless steps, was used for articles in a 
number of farm journals. 

From a bulletin of the U.S. Department of Agriculture a 
writer prepared an article on ''the most successful farmer 
in the United States" and what he did with twenty acres, 
for the department of ''Interesting People" in the Ameri" 
can Magazine, 



FINDING SUBJECTS AND MATERIAL 35 

The results of a municipal survey of Springfield, Illinois, 
as set forth in official reports, were the basis of an article in 
the Outlook on ''What is a Survey?" Reports of a similar 
survey at Lawrence, Kansas, were used for a special feature 
story in the Kansas City Star, 

''Are You a Good or a Poor Penman?" was the title of 
an article in Popular Science Monthly based on a chart pre- 
pared by the Russell Sage Foundation in connection with 
some of its educational investigations. 

The New York Evening Post pubUshed an interesting 
special article on the "life tables" that had been prepared 
by the division of vital statistics of the Bureau of the Cen- 
sus, to show the expectation of life at all ages in the six 
states from which vital statistics were obtained. 

A special feature story on how Panama hats are woven, 
as printed in the Ohio State Journal, was based entirely on 
a report of the United States consul general at Guayaquil, 
Ecuador. 

Scientific and Technical Publications. Almost every 
science and every art has its own special periodicals, from 
which can be gleaned a large number of subjects and much 
valuable material that needs only to be popularized to be 
made attractive to the average reader. The printed pro- 
ceedings of scientific and technical societies, including the 
papers read at their meetings, as well as monographs and 
books, are also valuable. How such publications may be 
utilized is illustrated by the articles given below. 

The report of a special committee of an association of 
electrical engineers, given at its convention in Philadel- 
phia, furnished a writer with material for an article on 
"Farming by Electricity," that was pubHshed in the Sun- 
day edition of the Springfield Republican. 

Studies of the cause of hunger, made by Prof. A. J. Carl- 
son of the University of Chicago and published in a volume 
entitled "The Control of Hunger in Health and Disease," 
furnished the subject for an article in the Illustrated World. 
Earlier results of the same investigation were given in the 
Sunday magazine of one of the Chicago papers. 



S6 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

From the Journal of Heredity was gleaned material for 
an article entitled ''What Chance Has the Poor Child?" 
It was printed in Every Week. 

''Golfer's Foot, One of Our Newest Diseases," was the 
subject of a special feature in the New York Times , that 
was based on an article in the Medical Record. 

That the canals on Mars may be only an optical illusion 
was demonstrated in an article in the Sunday magazine of 
the New York Times, by means of material obtained from 
a report of the section for the Observation of Mars, a divi- 
sion of the British Astronomical Association. 

Anticipating Timely Subjects. By looking forward for 
weeks or even months, as editors of Sunday newspapers 
and of magazines are constantly doing, a writer can select 
subjects and gather material for articles that will be par- 
ticularly appropriate at a given time. Holidays, seasonal 
events, and anniversaries may thus be anticipated, and 
special articles may be sent to editors some time in advance 
of the occasion that makes them timely. Not infrequently 
it is desirable to begin collecting material a year before the 
intended time of publication. 

An article on fire prevention, for instance, is appropriate 
for the month of October just before the day set aside for 
calling attention to fires caused by carelessness. Months 
in advance, a writer might begin collecting news stories of 
dangerous fires resulting from carelessness; and from the 
annual report of the state fire marshal issued in July, he 
could secure statistics on the causes of fires and the extent 
of the losses. 

To secure material for an article on the Christmas pres- 
ents that children might make at a cost of twenty-five cents 
or less, a woman writer jotted down after one Christmas 
all the information that she could get from her friends; and 
from these notes she wrote the article early in the following 
summer. It was published in the November number of a 
magazine, at a time when children were beginning to think 
about making Christmas presents. 

Articles on ways and means of earning college expenses 



FINDING SUBJECTS AND MATERIAL 37 

are particularly appropriate for publication in the summer 
or early fall, when young men and women are preparing to 
go to college, but if in such an article a student writer in- 
tends to describe experiences other than his own, he may 
well begin gathering material from his fellow students some 
months before. 

Anniversaries of various events, such as important dis- 
coveries and inventions, the death or birth of a personage, 
and significant historical occasions, may also be antici- 
pated. The fiftieth anniversary of the arrival of the first 
railroad train in Kansas City was commemorated in a spe- 
cial feature story in the Kansas City Star, published the 
day before the anniversary. The day following the fifty- 
sixth anniversary of the discovery of petroleum in Penn- 
sylvania, the New York Times printed in its Sunday 
magazine section a special article on the man who first 
found oil there. The centenary of the launching of the 
first steam-propelled ship to cross the Atlantic, was com- 
memorated by an article in the Sunday edition of the 
Providence Journal. Munsey's Magazine printed an article 
on the semi-centennial of the discovery of the process of 
making paper from wood pulp. 

By looking over tables giving dates of significant events, 
writers will find what anniversaries are approaching; or 
they may glean such information from news stories de- 
scribing preparations made for celebrating these anniversa- 
ries. 

Keeping Lists of Subjects. Every writer who is on the 
lookout for subjects and sources of material should keep 
a notebook constantly at hand. Subjects suggested by 
everyday experiences, by newspaper and magazine read- 
ing, and by a careful study of special articles in all kinds of 
publications, are likely to be forgotten unless they are re- 
corded at once. A small notebook that can be carried in 
the pocket or in a woman's hand-bag is most convenient. 
Besides topics for articles, the titles of books, reports, bul- 
letins, and other publications mentioned in conversation or 
in newspapers, should be jotted down as possible sources 



38 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

of material. Facts and figures from publications may be 
copied for future use. Good titles and interesting methods 
of treatment that a writer observes in the work of others 
may prove helpful in suggesting titles and methods for his 
own articles. Separate sections of even a small notebook 
may conveniently be set aside for all of these various 
points. 

Filing Material. The writer who makes methodical 
preparation for his work generally has some system of fil- 
ing good material so that it will be at hand when he wants 
it. One excellent filing device that is both inexpensive and 
capable of indefinite expansion consists of a number of 
stout manilla envelopes, large enough to hold newspaper 
chppings, printed reports, magazine articles, and photo- 
graphs. In each envelope is kept the material pertaining 
to one subject in which the writer is interested, the charac- 
ter of the subject-matter being indicated on one side of the 
envelope, so that, as the envelopes stand on end, their con- 
tents can readily be determined. If a writer has many of 
these envelopes, a one-drawer fifing case will serve to keep 
them in good order. By constantly gathering material 
from newspapers, magazines, and printed reports, he will 
soon find that he has collected a considerable amount of 
information on which to base his articles. 



CHAPTER IV 
APPEAL AND PURPOSE 

Analyzing the Subject. When from many avaflable 
subjects a writer is about to choose one, he should pause to 
consider its possibihties before beginning to write. It is 
not enough to say, ''This is a good subject; I beheve that I 
can write an article on it." He needs to look at the topic 
from every angle. He ought to ask himself, "How wide- 
spread is the interest in my subject? How much will it 
appeal to the average individual? What phases of it are 
likely to have the greatest interest for the greatest number 
of persons?" To answer these questions he must review 
the basic sources of pleasure and satisfaction. 

What Interests Readers, To interest readers is obvi- 
ously the prime object in all popular writing. The basis 
of interest in the news story, the special feature article, and 
the short story is essentially the same. Whatever the 
average person likes to hear and see, whatever gives him 
pleasure and satisfaction, is what he wants to read about. 
In order to test all phases of a given subject from this point 
of view, a writer needs to keep in mind the fundamental 
sources of satisfaction. 

Subjects and phases of subjects that attract readers 
may, for convenience, be divided into the following classes, 
which, however, are not mutually exclusive: (1) timely 
topics, (2) unique, novel, and extraordinary persons, 
things, and events, (3) mysteries, (4) romance, (5) adven- 
ture, (6) contests for supremacy, (7) children, (8) animals, 
(9) hobbies and amusements, (10) familiar persons, places, 
and objects, (11) prominent persons, places, and objects, 
(12) matters involving the life, property, and weKare of 
others, (13) matters that affect the reader's own success 
and well-being. 

Timeliness. Though not absolutely essential, timeli- 



40 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

ness is a valuable attribute of any subject. Readers like 
to feel that they are getting the latest facts and the newest 
ideas, in special feature articles as well as in the news. A 
subject need not be discarded, however, because it does not 
make a timely appeal. It may have interest in other re- 
spects sufficiently great to compensate for its lack of time- 
liness. 

Many topics that at first glance seem quite unrelated to 
current activities are found on closer examination to have 
some aspects that may be brought into connection with 
timely interests. To a writer keenly alive to everything 
that is going on in the world, most subjects will be found to 
have some bearing on what is uppermost in men's minds. 
Emphasis on that point of contact with current ideas will 
give to the article the desired timeliness. 

Novelty. When a person, object, or circumstance is 
unique, it arouses an unusual degree of interest. The fii-st 
person to accomplish something out of the ordinary, the 
first event of its kind, the first of anything, arrests attention. 

Closely associated with the unique is the extraordinary, 
the curious. If not absolutely the only one of its kind, a 
thing may still be sufficiently unusual to excite an uncom- 
mon degree of interest. Novelty has a perennial charm. 
Careful study of a subject is often necessary to reveal the 
novel and extraordinary phase of it that can best be em- 
phasized. 

Mysteries. The fascination for the human mind of 
whatever baffles it is so well known that it scarcely needs 
elaboration. Mysteries, whether real or fictitious, pique 
curiosity. Even the scholar and the practical man of af- 
fairs find relaxation in the mystery of the detective story. 
Real life often furnishes events sufficiently mysterious to 
make a special feature story that rivals fiction. Unex- 
plained crimes and accidents; strange psychical phenom- 
ena, such as ghosts, presentiments, spiritism, and telepa- 
thy; baffling problems of the scientist and the inventor — 
all have elements of mystery that fascinate the average 
reader. """" 



APPEAL AND PURPOSE 41 

Romance. The romance of real life is quite as interest- 
ing as that of fiction. As all the world loves a lover, almost 
all the world loves a love story. The course of true love 
may run smooth or it may not; in either case there is the 
romantic appeal. To find the romantic element in a topic 
is to discover a perennial source of attraction for all classes 
of readers. 

Adventure. Few in number are the persons who will 
not gladly escape from humdrum routine by losing them- 
selves in an exciting tale of adventure. The thrilling ex- 
ploits in real life of the engineer, the explorer, the soldier 
of fortune, the pioneer in any field, hold us spellbound. 
Even more commonplace experiences are not without an 
element of the adventurous, for life itself is a great adven- 
ture. Many special feature stories in narrative form have 
much the same interest that is created by the fictitious tale 
of adventure. 

Contests for Supremacy. Man has never lost his primi- 
tive love of a good fight. Civilization may change the 
form of the contest, but fighting to win, whether in love or 
politics, business or sport, still has a strong hold on all of 
us. Strikes, attempted monopolies, political revolutions, 
elections, championship games, diplomacy, poverty, are but 
a few of the struggles that give zest to life. To portray 
dramatically in a special article the clash and conflict in 
everyday affairs is to make a well-nigh universal appeal. 

Children. Because we live in and for our children, 
everything that concerns them comes close to our hearts. 
A child in a photo-drama or in a news story is sure to win 
sympathy and admiration. The special feature writer 
cannot afford to neglect so vital a source of interest. 
Practical articles on the care and the education of children 
also have especial value for women readers. 

Animals. Wild or tame, at large or in captivity, ani- 
mals attract us either for their almost human intelligence 
or for their distinctively animal traits. There are few per- 
sons who do not like horses, dogs, cats, and other pets, and 
fewer still who can pass by the animal cages at the circus 



42 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

or the "zoo." Hunting, trapping, and fishing are voca- 
tions for some men, and sport for many more. The busi- 
ness of breeding horses and cattle, and the care of hve 
stock and poultry on the farm, must not be overlooked in 
the search for subjects. The technical aspects of these 
topics will interest readers of farm journals; the more popu- 
lar phases of them make a wide general appeal. 

Hobbies and Amusements. Pastimes and avocations 
may be counted good subjects. Moving pictures, thea- 
ters, music, baseball, golf, automobiles, amateur photog- 
raphy, and a host of hobbies and recreations have enough 
enthusiastic devotees to insure wide reading for special 
feature stories about them. 

The Familiar. Persons whom we know, places that we 
constantly see, experiences that we have had again and 
again, often seem commonplace enough, even when fa- 
miharity has not bred contempt; but when they appear 
unexpectedly on the stage or in print, we greet them with 
the cordiality bestowed on the proverbial long-lost friend. 
Local news interests readers because it concerns people and 
places immediately around them. Every newspaper man 
understands the desirability of increasing the attractive- 
ness of a news event that happens elsewhere by finding 
"local ends," or by giving it "a local turn." For special 
feature stories in newspapers, local phases are no less im- 
portant. But whether the article is to be published in a 
newspaper or a magazine, familiar persons and things 
should be "played up" prominently. 

The Prominent. Many persons, places, and objects 
that we have never seen are frequently as real to us as are 
those that we see daily. This is because their names and 
their pictures have greeted us again and again in print. It 
is thus that prominent men and women become familiar to 
us. Because of their importance we like to read about 
them. If a special feature article in any of its phases con- 
cerns what is prominent, greater attractiveness can be given 
to it by 'Splaying up" this point, be it the President of the 
United States or a well-known circus clown. Fifth Avenue 



APPEAL AND PURPOSE 43 

or the Bowery, the Capitol at Washington or Coney Island, 
the Twentieth Century Limited or a Ford. 

Life and Welfare of Others. Sympathy with our fellow 
beings and an instinctive recognition of our common hu- 
manity are inherent in most men and women. Nowhere 
is this more strikingly shown than in the quick and gener- 
ous response that comes in answer to every call for aid for 
those in distress. So, too, we like to know how others feel 
and think. We Hke to get behind the veil with which 
every one attempts to conceal his innermost thoughts and 
feelings. Our interest in the lives and the welfare of others 
finds expression in various ways, ranging from social serv- 
ice and self-sacrificing devotion to gossip and secret confi- 
dences. These extremes and all that lies between them 
abound in that ''human interest" upon which all editors 
insist. 

This widespread interest in others affords to the writer 
of special articles one of his greatest opportunities, not 
only for preparing interesting stories, but for arousing read- 
ers to support many a good cause. To create sympathy 
for the unfortunate, to encourage active social service, to 
point the way to political reform, to show the advantages 
of better industrial conditions, to explain better business 
methods — all these are but a few of the helpful, construc- 
tive appeals that he may make effectively. 

He may create this interest and stir his readers to action 
by either one of two methods: by exposing existing evils, 
or by showing what has been done to improve bad con- 
ditions. The exposure of evils in politics, business, and 
society constituted the ''muck-raking" to which several of 
the popular monthly magazines owe their rise. This cru- 
sading, "searchlight" type of journahsm has been largely 
superseded by the constructive, " sunlight " type. To ex- 
plain how reforms have been accomplished, or are being 
brought about, is construed by the best of the present-day 
journals to be their special mission. 

Personal Success and Happiness. Every one is vitally 
concerned about his own prosperity and happiness. To 



44 SPECIAL FEATUKE ARTICLES 

make a success of life, no matter by what criterion we may 
measure that success, is our one all-powerful motive. Hap- 
piness, as the goal that we hope to reach by our suc- 
cess, and health, as a prime requisite for its attainment, 
are also of great importance to every one of us. How 
to make or save more money, how to do our work more 
easily, how to maintain our physical well-being, how to 
improve ourselves mentally and morally, how to enjoy life 
more fully — that is what we all want to know. To the 
writer who will show us how to be "healthy, wealthy, and 
wise," we will give our undivided attention. 

Business and professional interests naturally occupy the 
larger part of men's thoughts, while home-making is the 
chief work of most women. Although women are entering 
many fields hitherto monopohzed by men, the home re- 
mains woman's peculiar sphere. The purchase and prep- 
aration of food, the buying and making of clothing, the 
management of servants, the care of children — these are 
the vital concerns of most women. They realize, however, 
that conditions outside the home have a direct bearing on 
home-making; and each year they are taking a more active 
part in civic affairs. Matters of pubhc health, pure food 
legislation, the milk and the water supply, the garbage col- 
lection, the character of places of amusement, the pubhc 
schools, determine, in no small degree, the success and 
happiness of the home-maker. 

Since the dominant interests of men and women alike 
are their business and their home, the special writer should 
undertake to connect his subject as closely as possible with 
these interests. To show, for example, how the tariff, 
taxes, public utihty rates, price-fixing, legislation, and 
similar matters affect the business and home affairs of the 
average reader, is to give to these political and economic 
problems an interest for both men and women far in excess 
of that resulting from a more general treatment of them. 
The surest way to get the reader's attention is to bring the 
subject home to him personally. 

Of the importance of presenting a subject in such a man- 



APPEAL AND PURPOSE 45 

ner that the reader is led to see its application to himself 
and his own affairs, Mr. John M. Siddall, editor of the 
American Magazine, has said: 

Every human being likes to see himself in reading matter — 
just as he likes to see himself in a mirror. 

The reason so much reading matter is unpopular and never 
attracts a wide reading public lies in the fact that the reader sees 
nothing in it for himself. Take an article, we '11 say, entitled 
**The Financial System of Canada." It looks dull, does n't \i? 
It looks dull because you can't quite see where it affects you. 
Now take an article entitled "Why it is easier to get rich in Can- 
ada than in the United States." That's different! Your inter- 
est is aroused. You wonder wherein the Canadian has an ad- 
vantage over you. You look into the article to find out whether 
you can't get an idea from it. Yet the two articles may be basic- 
ally alike, differing only in treatment. One bores you and the 
other interests you. One bores you because it seems remote. 
The other interests you because the writer has had the skill to 
translate his facts and ideas into terms that are personal to you. 
The minute you become personal in this world you become in- 
teresting. 

Combining Appeals, When the analysis of a topic 
shows that it possesses more than one of these appeals, 
the writer may heighten the attractiveness of his story 
by developing several of the possibilities, simultaneously 
or successively. The chance discovery by a prominent 
physician of a simple preventive of infantile paralysis, 
for instance, would combine at least four of the elements 
of interest enumerated above. If such a combination of 
appeals can be made at the very beginning of the article, 
it is sure to command attention. 

Definiteness of Purpose. In view of the multiplicity of 
possible appeals, a writer may be misled into undertaking 
to do too many diverse things in a single article. A sub- 
ject often has so many different aspects of great interest 
that it is difficult to resist the temptation to use all of 
them. If a writer yields to this temptation, the result may 
be a diffuse, aimless article that, however interesting in 
many details, fails to make a definite impression. 



46 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

To avoid this danger, the writer must decide just what 
his purpose is to be. He must ask himself, ''What is my 
aim in writing this article?" and, ''What do I expect to ac- 
complish?" Only in this way will he clarify in his mind 
his reason for writing on the proposed topic and the object 
to be attained. 

With a definitely formulated aim before him, he can de- 
cide just what material he needs. An objective point to 
be reached will give his article direction and will help him 
to stick to his subject. Furthermore, by getting his aim 
clearly in mind, he will have the means of determining, 
when the story is completed, whether or not he has accom- 
plished what he set out to do. 

In selecting material, in developing the article, and in 
testing the completed product, therefore, it is important to 
have a definitely formulated purpose. 

Three General Aims. Every special article should ac- 
complish one of three general aims: it should (1) entertain, 
or (2) inform, or (3) give practical guidance. 

The same subject and the same material may sometimes 
be so treated as to accompHsh any one of these three pur- 
poses. If the writer's aim is merely to help readers pass a 
leisure hour pleasantly, he will ''play up" those aspects of 
a topic that will afford entertainment and little or nothing 
else. If he desires to supply information that will add to 
the reader's stock of knowledge, he will present his facts in 
a manner calculated to make his readers remember what 
he has told them. If he proposes to give information that 
can be applied by readers to their own activities, he must 
include those details that are necessary to any one who de- 
sires to make practical use of the information. 

When, for example, a writer is about to prepare an arti- 
cle, based on experience, about keeping bees on a small 
suburban place, he will find that he may write his story in 
any one of three ways. The difficulties experienced by the 
amateur bee-keeper in trying to handle bees in a small gar- 
den could be treated humorously with no other purpose 
than to amuse. Or the keeping of bees under such circum- 



' APPEAL AND PURPOSE 47 

stances might be described as an interesting example of 
enterprise on the part of a city man hving in the suburbs. 
Or, in order to show other men and women similarly sit- 
uated just how to keep bees, the writer might explain 
exactly what any person would need to know to attain 
success in such a venture. Just as the purpose of these 
articles would vary, so the material and the point of 
view would differ. 

, Entertaining Articles. To furnish wholesome entertain- 
ment is a perfectly legitimate end in special feature writ- 
ing. There is no reason why the humor, the pathos, the 
romance, the adventure, and mystery in life should not be 
presented in special feature stories for our entertainment 
and amusement, just as they are presented for the same 
purpose in the short story, the drama, and the photo-play. 
Many readers find special feature stories with real persons, 
real places, and real circumstances, more entertaining than 
fiction. A writer with the abihty to see the comedies and 
the tragedies in the events constantly happening about him, 
or frequently reported in the press, will never lack for sub- 
jects and material. 

Wholesome Entertainment. The effect of entertaining 
stories on the ideas and ideals of readers ought not to be 
overlooked. According to the best journalistic standards, 
nothing should be printed that will exert a demorahzing or 
unwholesome influence. Constructive journaHsm goes a 
step further when it insists that everjrthing shall tend to 
be helpful and constructive. This practice appUes ahke 
to news stories and to special articles. 

These standards do not necessarily exclude news and 
special feature stories that deal with crime, scandal, and 
similar topics; but they do demand that the treatment of 
such subjects shall not be suggestive or offensive. To por- 
tray violators of the criminal or moral codes as heroes 
worthy of emulation ; to gratify some readers' taste for the 
morbid; to satisfy other readers by exploiting sex — all 
are alike foreign to the purpose of respectable journal- 
ism. No self-respecting writer will lend the aid of his 



48 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

pen to such work, and no self-respecting editor will pub- 
lish it. 

To deter persons from conunitting similar crimes and fol- 
lies should be the only purpose in writing on such topics. 
The thoughtful writer, therefore, must guard against the 
temptation to surround wrong-doers with the glamom* of 
heroic or romantic adventure, and, by sentimental treat- 
ment, to create sympathy for the undeserving culprit. 
Violations of law and of the conventions of society ought 
to be shown to be wrong, even when the wrong-doer is 
deserving of some sympathy. This need not be done by 
moralizing and editorializing. A much better way is to 
emphasize, as the results of wrong-doing, not only legal 
punishment and social ostracism, but the pangs of a 
guilty conscience, and the disgrace to the culprit and 
his family. 

A cynical or flippant treatment of serious subjects gives 
many readers a false and distorted view of life. Humor 
does not depend on ridicule or satire. The fads and foibles 
of humanity can be good-naturedly exposed in humorous 
articles that have no sting. Although many topics may 
very properly be treated hghtly, others demand a serious, 
dignified style. 

The men and women whom a writer puts into his arti- 
cles are not puppets, but real persons, with feelings not un- 
like his own. To drag them and their personal affairs from 
the privacy to which they are entitled, and to give them 
undesired and needless publicity, for the sake of affording 
entertainment to others, often subjects them to great hu- 
miliation and suffering. The fact that a man, woman, or 
child has figured in the day's news does not necessarily 
mean that a writer is entitled to exploit such a person's 
private affairs. He must discriminate between what the 
public is entitled to know and what an individual has 
a right to keep private. Innocent wives, sweethearts, or 
children are not necessarily legitimate material for his ar- 
ticle because their husband, lover, or father has appeared 
in the news. The golden rule is the best guide for a 



APPEAL AND PURPOSE 49 

writer in such cases. Lack of consideration for the rights 
of others is the mark neither of a good writer nor of a 
true gentleman. Clean, wholesome special feature stories 
that present interesting phases of life accurately, and that 
show due consideration for the rights of the persons por- 
trayed, are quite as entertaining as are any others. 

Informative Articles. Since many persons confine their 
reading largely to newspapers and magazines, they derive 
most of their information and ideas from these sources. 
Even persons who read new books rely to some extent on 
special articles for the latest information about current 
topics. Although most readers look to periodicals prima- 
rily for new, timely facts, they are also interested to find 
there biographical and historical material that is not di- 
rectly connected with current events. Every special fea- 
ture writer has a great opportunity to furnish a large circle 
of readers with interesting and significant information. 

In analyzing subjects it is necessary to discriminate be- 
tween significant and trivial facts. Some topics when 
studied will be found to contain little of real consequence, 
even though a readable article might be developed from 
the material. Other themes will reveal aspects that are 
both trivial and significant. When a writer undertakes to 
choose between the two, he should ask himself, ''Are the 
facts worth remembering?" and, ''Will they furnish food 
for thought?" In clarifying his purpose by such tests, he 
will decide not only what kind of information he desires to 
impart, but what material he must select, and from what 
point of view he should present it. 

Articles of Practical Guidance. The third general pur- 
pose that a writer may have is to give his readers suffi- 
ciently explicit information to enable them to do for them- 
selves what has been done by others. Because all persons 
want to know how to be more successful, they read these 
"how-to-do-something" articles with avidity. All of us 
welcome practical suggestions, tactfully given, that can be 
applied to our own activities. Whatever any one has done 
successfully may be so presented that others can learn how 



50 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

to do it with equal success. Special feature articles fur- 
nish the best means of giving this practical guidance. 

In preparing a ''how-to-do-something" article, a writer 
needs to consider the class of readers for which it is in- 
tended. A special featm^e story, for example, on how to 
reduce the cost of milk might be presented from any one 
of three points of view: that of the producer, that of the 
distributor, or that of the consumer. To be practical for 
dairy farmers, as producers of milk, the article would have 
to point out possible economies in keeping cows and hand- 
ling milk on the farm. To be helpful to milk-dealers, as 
distributors, it would concern itseK with methods of lower- 
ing the cost of selhng and delivering milk in the city. To 
assist housewives, as consumers, the article would have to 
show how to economize in using milk in the home. An in- 
formative article for the general reader might take up all 
these phases of the subject, but an article intended to give 
practical guidance should consider the needs of only one of 
these three classes of persons. 

In many constructive articles of practical guidance, the 
writer's purpose is so successfully concealed that it may at 
first escape the notice of the average reader. By relating 
in detail, for example, how an actual enterprise was carried 
out, a writer may be able to give his readers, without their 
realizing it, all the information they need to accomplish a 
similar undertaking. When he analyzes such articles, the 
student should not be misled into thinking that the \\Titer 
did not have the definite purpose of imparting practical 
information. If the same material can be developed into 
an article of interesting information or into one of practical 
guidance, it is desirable to do the latter and, if necessary, 
to disguise the purpose. 

Statement of Purpose. In order to define his purpose 
clearly and to keep it constantly before him, a writer wiU 
do well to put down on paper his exact aim in a single sen- 
tence. If, for example, he desired to write a constructive 
article about an Americanization pageant held in his home 
city on the Fourth of July, he might write out the state- 



APPEAL AND PURPOSE 51 

ment of his aim thus : ^' I desire to show how the Americani- 
zation of ahens may be encouraged in small industrial cen- 
ters of from 3000 to 20,000 inhabitants, by describing how 
the last Fourth of July Americanization pageant was or- 
ganized and carried out in a typical Pennsylvania indus- 
trial town of 5000." 

Such a statement will assist a writer in selecting his ma- 
terial, in sticking to his subject, and in keeping to one 
point of view. Without this clearly formulated aim be- 
fore him, it is easy for him to dwell too long on some phase 
of the subject in which he is particularly interested or on 
which he has the most material, to the neglect of other 
phases that are essential to the accomplishment of his pur- 
pose. Or, failing to get his aim clearly in mind, he may 
jump from one aspect of the subject to another, without 
accompHshing anything in particular. Many a newspaper 
and magazine article leaves a confused, hazy impression on 
the minds of readers because the writer failed to have a 
definite objective. 



CHAPTER V 
TYPES OF ARTICLES 

Methods of Treatment. After choosing a subject and 
formulating his purpose, a writer is ready to consider meth- 
ods of treatment. Again it is desirable to survey all the 
possibilities in order to choose the one method best adapted 
to his subject and his purpose. His chief consideration 
should be the class of readers that he desires to reach. 
Some topics, he will find, may be treated with about equal 
success in any one of several ways, while others lend them- 
selves to only one or two forms of presentation. By think- 
ing through the various possible ways of working out his 
subject, he will be able to decide which meets his needs 
most satisfactorily. 

Exposition by Narration and Description. The com-, 
monest method of developing a special feature article is 
that which combines narration and description with ex- 
position. The reason for this combination is not far to 
seek. The average person is not attracted by pure expo- 
sition. He is attracted by fiction. Hence the narra- 
tive and descriptive devices of fiction are employed advan- 
tageously to supplement expository methods. Narratives 
and descriptions also have the advantage of being concrete 
and vivid. The rapid reader can grasp a concrete story or 
a word picture. He cannot so readily comprehend a more 
general explanation unaccompanied by specific examples 
and graphic pictures of persons, places, and objects. 

Narration and description are used effectively for the 
concrete examples and the specific instances by which we 
illustrate general ideas. The best way, for example, to 
make clear the operation of a state system of health insur- 
ance is to relate how it has operated in the case of one or 
more persons affected. In explaining a new piece of ma- 
chinery the writer may well describe it in operation, to en- 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 53 

able readers to visualize it and follow its motions. Since 
the reader's interest will be roused the more quickly if he 
is given tangible, concrete details that he can grasp, the 
examples are usually put first, to be followed by the 
more general explanation. Sometimes several examples 
are given before the explanatory matter is offered. Whole 
articles are often made up of specific examples and general- 
izations presented alternately. 

To explain the effects of a new anaesthetic, for example, 
Mr. Burton J. Hendrick in an article in McClure^s Maga- 
zine, pictured the scene in the operating-room of a hospital 
where it was being given to a patient, showed just how it 
was administered, and presented the results as a spectator 
saw them. The beginning of the article on stovaine, the 
new anaesthetic, illustrating this method of exposition, 
follows: 

A few months ago, a small six-year-old boy was wheeled into 
the operating theater at the Hospital for Ruptured and Crippled 
Children, in New York City. He was one of the several thousand 
children of the tenements who annually find their way into this 
great philanthropic institution, suffering from what, to the lay 
mind, seems a hopelessly incurable injury or malformation. 
This particular patient had a crippled and paralyzed leg, and to 
restore its usefulness, it was necessary to cut deeply into the heel, 
stretch the "Achilles tendon," and make other changes which, 
without the usual anesthetic, would involve excruciating suffer- 
ing. According to the attendant nurses, the child belonged to 
the "noisy" class; that is, he was extremely sensitive to pain, 
screamed at the approach of the surgeon, and could be examined 
only when forcibly held down. 

As the child came into the operating -room he presented an 
extremely pathetic figure — small, naked, thin, with a closely 
cropped head of black hair, and a face pinched and blanched with 
fear. Surrounded by a fair-sized army of big, muscular surgeons 
and white-clothed nurses, and a gallery filled with a hundred or 
more of the leading medical men of the metropoUs, he certainly 
seemed a helpless speck of humanity with all the unknown forces 
of science and modern life arrayed against him. Under ordinary 
conditions he would have been etherized in an adjoining chamber 
and brought into the operating-room entirely unconscious. This 



54 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

cripple, however, had been selected as a favorable subject for an 
interesting experiment in modern surgery, for he was to undergo 
an extremely torturous operation in a state of full consciousness. 

Among the assembled surgeons was a large-framed, black- 
moustached and black-haired, quick-moving, gypsy-like Ru- 
manian — Professor Thomas Jonnesco, dean of the Medical De- 
partment of the University of Bucharest, and one of the leading 
men of his profession in Europe. Dr. Jonnesco, who had landed 
in New York only two days before, had come to the United 
States with a definite scientific purpose. This was to show 
American surgeons that the most difficult operations could be 
performed without pain, without loss of consciousness, and with- 
out the use of the familiar anesthetics, ether or chloroform. 
Dr. Jonnesco's reputation in itself assured him the fullest oppor- 
tunity of demonstrating his method in New York, and this six- 
year-old boy had been selected as an excellent test subject. 

Under the gentle assurances of the nurses that "no one was 
going to hurt" him, the boy assumed a sitting posture on the 
operating-table, with his feet dangling over the edge. Then, at 
the request of Dr. Jonnesco, he bent his head forward until it al- 
most touched his breast. This threw the child's back into the 
desired position — that of the typical bicycle ''scorcher," — 
making each particular vertebra stand out sharply under the 
tight drawn skin. Dr. Jonnesco quickly ran his finger along the 
protuberances, and finally selected the space between the twelfth 
dorsal and the first lumbar vertebrae — in other words, the space 
just above the small of the back. He then took an ordinary hy- 
podermic needle, and slowly pushed it through the skin and tis- 
sues until it entered the small opening between the lower and up- 
per vertebrae, not stopping until it reached the open space just 
this side of the spinal cord. 

As the needle pierced the flesh, the little patient gave a sharp 
cry — the only sign of discomfiture displaj^'ed during the en- 
tire operation. When the hollow needle reached its destination, 
a few drops of a colorless liquid spurted out — the famous cere- 
bro-spinal fluid, the substance which, like a water-jacket, envel- 
ops the brain and the spinal cord. Into this same place Dr. Jon- 
nesco now introduced an ordinary surgical syringe, which he had 
previously filled with a pale yellowish liquid — the much-famed 
stovaine, — and slowly emptied its contents into the region that 
immediately surrounds the spinal cord. 

For a few minutes the child retained his sitting posture as if 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 55 

nothing extraordinary had happened. Dr. Jonnesco patted him 
on the back and said a few pleasant words in French, while the 
nurses and assistants chatted amiably in English. 

''How do you feel now?" the attending surgeon asked, after 
the lapse of three or four minutes. 

"All right," replied the boy animatedly, *'^cept that my legs 
feel like they was going to sleep." 

The nurses now laid the patient down upon his back, throwing 
a handkerchief over his eyes, so that he could not himself witness 
the subsequent proceedings. There was, naturally, much hold- 
ing of breath as Dr. Virgil P. Gibney, the operating surgeon, 
raised his knife and quickly made a deep incision in the heel of 
this perfectly conscious patient. From the child, however, there 
was not the slightest evidence of sensation. 

"Didn't you feel anything, my boy?" asked Dr. Gibney, 
pausing. 

"No, I don't feel nothin'," came the response from under the 
handkerchief. 

An operation lasting nearly half an hour ensued. The deepest 
tissues were cut, the tendons were stretched, the incision was 
sewed up, all apparently without the patient's knowledge. 

Some types of articles, although expository in purpose, 
are entirely narrative and descriptive in form. By relat- 
ing his own experiences in a confession story, for example, 
a writer may be able to show very clearly and interestingly 
the dangers of speculations in stocks with but small capi- 
tal. Personality sketches are almost always narrative and 
descriptive. 

Many of the devices of the short story will be found use- 
ful in articles. Not only is truth stranger than fiction, but 
facts may be so presented as to be even more interesting 
than fiction. Conversation, character-drawing, suspense, 
and other methods familiar to the writer of short stories 
may be used effectively in special articles. Their applica- 
tion to particular types of articles is shown in the following 
pages. 

Special Tj^es of Articles. Although there is no gener- 
ally recognized classification of special feature articles, 
several distinct types may be noted, such as (1) the inter- 



56 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

view, (2) the personal experience story, (3) the confession 
article, (4) the ^ ' how-to-do-something " article, (5) the per- 
sonality sketch, (6) the narrative in the third person. 
These classes, it is evident, are not mutually exclusive, but 
may for convenience be treated separately. 

The Interview. Since the material for many articles is 
obtained by means of an interview, it is often convenient to 
put the major part, if not the whole, of the story in inter- 
view form. Such an article may consist entirely of direct 
quotation with a hmited amount of explanatory material 
concerning the person interviewed; or it may be made up 
partly of direct quotation and partly of indirect quotation, 
combined with the necessary explanation. For greater 
variety it is advisable to alternate direct and indirect quo- 
tations. A description of the person interviewed and of 
his surroundings, b}^ way of introduction, gives the reader 
a distinct impression of the individual under characteristic 
conditions. Or some striking utterance of his may be 
''played up " at the beginning, to be followed by a picture of 
him and his surroundings. Interviews on the same topic with 
two or more persons may be combined in a single article. 

The interview has several obvious advantages. First, 
the spoken word, quoted verbatim, gives life to the story. 
The person interviewed seems to be talking to each reader 
individually. The description of him in his surroundings 
helps the reader to see him as he talks. Second, events, 
explanations, and opinions given in the words of one who 
speaks with authority, have gi^eater weight than do the 
assertions of an unknown writer. Third, the interview is 
equally effective whether the writer's purpose is to inform, 
to entertain, or to furnish practical guidance. Romance 
and adventure, humor and pathos, may well be handled 
in interview form. Discoveries, inventions, new processes, 
unusual methods, new projects, and marked success of any 
kind may be explained to advantage in the words of those 
responsible for these undertakings. 

In obtaining material for an interview story, a writer 
should bear in mind a number of points regarding inter- 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 57 

viewing in general. First, in advance of meeting the per- 
son to be interviewed, he should plan the series of ques- 
tions by which he hopes to elicit the desired information. 
''What would my readers ask this person if they had 
a chance to talk to him about this subject?'' he must 
ask himself. That is, his questions should be those that 
readers would like to have answered. Since it is the an- 
swers, however, and not the questions, that will interest 
readers, the questions in the completed article should be 
subordinated as much as possible. Sometimes they may 
be skillfully embodied in the replies; again they may be 
implied merely, or entirely omitted. In studying an inter- 
view article, one can generally infer what questions the in- 
terviewer used. Second, he must cultivate his memory so 
that he can recall a person's exact words without taking 
notes. Most men talk more freely and easily when they 
are not reminded of the fact that what they are saying is 
to be printed. In interviewing, therefore, it is desirable to 
keep pencil and paper out of sight. Third, immediately 
after leaving the person whom he has interviewed, the 
writer should jot down facts, figures, striking statements, 
and anything else that he might forget. 

Examples of the Interview Article. As a timely special 
feature story for Arbor Day, a Washington correspondent 
used the following interview with an expert as a means of 
giving readers practical advice on tree-planting: 

ARBOR DAY ADVICE 

Washington, April 1. — Three spadefuls of rich, pulverized 
earth will do more to make a young tree grow than a 30-minute 
Arbor day address by the president of the school board and a pa- 
triotic anthem by the senior class, according to Dr. Furman L. 
Mulford, tree expert for the department of agriculture. 

Not that Dr. Mulford would abbreviate the ceremonies at- 
tendant upon Arbor day planting, but he thinks that they do not 
mean much unless the roots planted receive proper and constant 
care. For what the Fourth of July is to the war and navy depart- 
ments, and what Labor day is to the department of labor, Arbor 
day is to the department of agriculture. 



58 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

While the forestry bureau has concerned itself primarily with 
trees from the standpoint of the timber supply, Dr. Mulford has 
been making a study of trees best adapted for streets and cities 
generally. And nobody is more interested than he in what Arbor 
day signifies or how trees should be chosen and reared, 

''We need trees most where our population is the thickest, and 
some trees, like some people, are not adapted to such a life,'' said 
Dr. Mulford. " For street or school yard planting one of the first 
considerations is a hardy tree, that can find nourishment under 
brick pavements or granite sidewalks. It must be one that 
branches high from the ground and ought to be native to the 
country and climate. America has the prettiest native trees and 
shrubs in the world and it is true patriotism to recognize them. 

"For Southern states one of the prettiest and best of shade 
trees is the laurel oak, and there will be thousands of them 
planted this spring. It is almost an evergreen and is a quick 
growing tree. The willow oak is another. 

''A little farther north the red oak is one of the most desirable, 
and in many places the swamp maple grows well, though this lat- 
ter tree does not thrive well in crowded cities. 

''Nothing, however, is prettier than the American elm when it 
reaches the majesty of its maturity and I do not believe it will 
ever cease to be a favorite. One thing against it, though, is the 
'elm beetle,' a pest wliich is spreading and which will kill some of 
our most beautiful trees unless spraying is consistently practised. 
China berry trees, abundant in the South, and box elders, na- 
tive to a score of states, are quick growing, but they reach matur- 
ity too soon and begin to go to pieces." 

"What is the reason that so many Arbor day trees die.^" Dr. 
MuKord was asked. 

"Usually lack of protection, and often lack of care in plant- 
ing," was the answer. "When the new tree begins to put out 
tender rootlets a child brushing against it or 'inspecting' it too 
closely will break them off and it dies. Or stock will nip off 
the new leaves and shoots and the result is the same. A frame 
around the tree would prevent this. 

"Then, often wild trees are too big when transplanted. Such 
trees have usually only a few long roots and so much of these are 
lost in transplanting that the large trunk cannot be nourished 
by the remainder. With nursery trees the larger they are the 
better it is, for they have a lot of small roots that do not have to 
be cut off. 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 59 

"Fruit trees are seldom so successful as shade trees, either 
along a street or road or in a yard. In the first place their 
branches are too low and unless carefully pruned their shape is 
irregular. Then they are subject to so many pests that unless 
constant care is given them they will not bear a hatful of fruit a 
season. 

"On the other hand, nut trees are usually hardy and add much 
to the landscape. Pecan, chestnut, walnut and shaggy bark 
hickory are some of the more popular varieties." 

The first Arbor day was observed in Nebraska, which has 
fewer natural trees than any other state. This was in 1872, and 
Kansas was the second to observe the day, falling into line in 
1875. Incidentally Kansas ranks next to Nebraska in dearth of 
trees. 

The Arbor day idea originated with J. Sterling Morton, a Ne- 
braskan who was appointed secretary of agriculture by Cleve- 
land. Now every state in the Union recognizes the day and New 
York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, Wis- 
consin and others have gotten out extensive Arbor day booklets 
giving information concerning trees and birds; most of them even 
contain appropriate songs and poems for Arbor day programs. 

How an interview combined with a description of a per- 
son may serve to create sympathy for her and for the cause 
that she represents is shown in the following article, which 
was published anonymously in the Sunday magazine sec- 
tion of the Ohio State Journal. It was illustrated with two 
half-tone portraits, one of the young woman in Indian cos- 
tume, the other showing her in street dress. 

Just Like Pocahontas of 300 Years Ago 

** Oh, East is East and West is West, 
And never the two shall meetJ^ 

But they may send messengers. Hark to the words of "One- 
who-does-things- well . ' ' 

"I carry a message from my people to the Government at 
Washington," says Princess Galilolie, youngest daughter of 
John Ross, hereditary King of the "Forest Indians," the Chero- 
kees of Oklahoma. "We have been a nation without hope. 
The land that was promised us by solemn treaty, ' so long as the 
grass should grow and the waters run,' has been taken from us. 



60 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

It was barren and wild when we received it seventy years ago. 
Now it is rich with oil and cultivation, and the whites coveted 
our possessions. Since it was thrown open to settlers no Chero- 
kee holds sovereign rights as before, when it was his nation. We 
are outnumbered. I have come as a voice from my people to 
speak to the people of the Eastern States and to those at Wash- 
ington — most of all, if I am permitted to do so, to lay our 
wrongs before the President's wife, in whose veins glows the blood 
of the Indian." 

Only nineteen is this Indian princess — this twentieth century 
Pocahontas — who travels far to the seats of the mighty for her 
race. 

She is a tall, slim, stately girl from the foothills of the Ozarks, 
from Tahlequah, former capital of the Cherokee Nation. She 
says she is proud of every drop of Indian blood that flows in her 
veins. But her skin is fair as old ivory and she is a college girl — 
a girl of the times to her finger-tips. 

"When an Indian goes through college and returns to his or her 
people," she says with a smile, "they say, 'Back to the blanket!' 
We have few blanl<:ets among the Cherokees in Tahlequah. I am 
the youngest of nine children, and we are all of us college grad- 
uates, as my father was before us." 

He is John Ross 3d, Chief of the Cherokee Nation, of mingled 
Scotch and Indian blood, in descent from " Cooweeskowee," John 
Ross I., the rugged old Indian King who held out against Andrew 
Jackson back in 1838 for the ancient rights of the Five Nations to 
their lands along the Southern Atlantic States. 

She sat back on the broad window seat in the sunlight. Be- 
yond the window lay a bird's-eye view of New York housetops, 
the white man's permanent tepee. Some spring birds alighted on 
a nearby telephone wire, sending out twittering mating cries to 
each other. 

"They make me want to go home," she said with a swift, ex- 
pressive gesture. "But I will stay until the answer comes to us. 
Do you know what they have called me, the old men and women 
who are wise — the full-bloods.^ Galilohe — ' One-who-does- 
things-well.' With us, when a name is given it is one with a 
meaning, something the child must grow to in fulfillment. So I 
feel I must not fail them now." 

"You see," she went on, lifting her chin, "it is we young half- 
bloods who must carry the strength and honor of our people to 
the world so it may understand us. All oui' lives we have been 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 61 

told tales by the old men — how our people were driven from 
their homes by the Government, how Gen. Winfield Scott's sol- 
diers came down into our quiet villages and ordered the Indians 
to go forth leaving everything behind them. My great-grand- 
father, the old King Cooweeskowee, with his wife and children, 
paused at the first hilltop to look back at his home, and already 
the whites were moving into it. The house is still standing at 
Rossville, Ga. Do you know what the old people tell us children 
when we wish we could go back there .^ " Her eyes are half closed, 
her lips compressed as she says slowly, thrillingly: "They tell 
us it is easy to find the way over that ' Trail of Tears,' that through 
the wilderness it is blazed with the gravestones of those who were 
too weak to march. 

" That was seventy years ago, in 1838. The Government prom- 
ised to pay amply for all it took from us, our homes and lands, 
cattle — even furniture. A treaty was made solemnly between 
the Indians and the United States that Oklahoma should be theirs 
'as long as the grass should grow and the waters run.' 

" That meant perpetuity to us, don't you see? " She makes her 
points with a directness and simplicity that should disarm even 
the diplomatic suavity of Uncle Sam when he meets her in Wash- 
ington. "Year after year the Cherokees waited for the Govern- 
ment to pay. And at last, three years ago, it came to us — 
$133.19 to each Indian, seventy-eight years after the removal from 
Georgia had taken place. 

"Oil was discovered after the Indians had taken the wilderness 
lands in Oklahoma and reclaimed them. It was as if God, in 
reparation for the wrongs inflicted by whites, had given us the 
riches of the earth. My people grew rich from their wells, but a 
way was found to bind their wealth so they could not use it. It 
was said the Indians were not fit to handle their own money." 

She lifts eyebrows and shoulders, her hands clasped before her 
tightly, as if in silent resentment of their impotence to help. 

"These are the things I want to tell; first our wrongs and then 
our colonization plan, for which we hope so much if the Govern- 
ment will grant it. We are outnumbered since the land was opened 
up and a mass of 'sooners,' as we call them — squatters, claim- 
ers, settlers — swarmed in over our borders. The Government 
again offered to pay us for the land they took back — the land 
that was to be ours in perpetuity * while the grass grew and the 
waters ran.' We were told to file our claims with the whites. 
Some of us did, but eight hundred of the full-bloods went back 



62 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

forty miles into the foothills under the leadership of Red Bird 
Smith. They refuse to sell or to accept the Government money 
for their valuable oil lands. To appease justice, the Govern- 
ment allotted them lands anyway, in their absence, and paid 
the money for their old property into the banks, where it hes un- 
touched. Red Bird and his 'Night Hawks' refuse to barter over 
a broken treaty. 

"Ah, but I have gone up alone to the old men there." Her 
voice softens. "They will talk to me because I am my father's 
daughter. My Indian name means ' One-who-does-things-w^ll.' 
So if I go to them they tell me their heart longings, what they ask 
for the Cherokee. 

"And I shall put the message, if I can, before our President's 
wife. Perhaps she will help." 

The Personal Experience Article. A writer's own ex- 
periences, given under his name, under a pseudonym, or in 
anonymous form, can easily be made interesting to others. 
Told in the first person, such stories are realistic and con- 
vincing. The pronoun " I " liberally sprinkled through the 
story, as it must be, gives to it a personal, intimate charac- 
ter that most readers like. Conversation and description 
of persons, places, and objects may be included to advan- 
tage in these personal narratives. 

The possibilities of the personal experience story are as 
great as are those of the interview. Besides serving as a 
vehicle for the writer's own experiences, it may be em- 
ployed to give experiences of others. If, for example, a 
person interviewed objects to having his name used, it is 
possible to present the material obtained by the interview 
in the form of a personal experience story. In that case 
the article would have to be published without the writer's 
name, since the personal experiences that it records are 
not his own. Permission to present material in a personal 
experience story should always be obtained from the indi- 
vidual whose experiences the writer intends to use. 

Articles designed to give practical guidance, to show 
readers how to do something, are particularly effective 
when written in the first person. If these ''how-to-do- 
something" articles are to be most useful to readers, the 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 63 

conditions under which the personal experience was ob- 
tained must be fairly typical. Personal experience articles 
of this type are very popular in women's magazines, agri- 
cultural journals, and publications that appeal to business 
men. 

Examples of the Personal Experience Story. The op- 
portunities for service offered to women by small daily 
newspapers are set forth in the story below, by means of 
the personal experiences of one woman. The article was 
published in the Woman's Home Companion, and was il- 
lustrated by a half-tone reproduction of a wash drawing of 
a young woman seated at her desk in a newspaper office. 

" They Call Me the ' Hen Editor ' " 

The Story of a Small-Town Newspaper Woman 

By SADIE L. MOSSLER 

"What do you stay buried in this burg for.^ Why, look how 
you drudge! and what do you get out of it? New York or some 
other big city is the place for you. There 's where you can become 
famous instead of being a newspaper woman in a one-horse town." 

A big city newspaper man was talking. He was in our town on 
an assignment, and he was idling away spare time in our office. 
Before I could answer, the door opened and a small girl came to 
my desk. 

"Say," she said, "Mama told me to come in here and thank 
you for that piece you put in the paper about us. You ought to see 
the eatin's folks has brought us! Heaps an' heaps! And Ma's 
got a job scrubbin' three stores." 

The story to which she referred was one that I had written 
about a family left fatherless, a mother and three small children 
in real poverty. I had written a plain appeal to the home people, 
with the usual results. 

"That," I said, "is one reason that I am staying here. 
Maybe it is n't fame in big letters signed to an article, but it 's 
another kind." 

His face wore a queer expression; but before he could retort 
another caller appeared, a well-dressed woman. 

" What do you mean," she declared, " by putting it in the paper 
that I served light refreshments at my party.'*" 



'64 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

"Was n't it so? " I meekly inquired. 

"No!" she thundered. "I served ice cream, cake and coffee, 

and that makes two courses. See that it is right next time, or 
we'll stop the paper." 

Here my visitor laughed. "I suppose that's another reason 
for your staying here. When we write anything about a per- 
son we don't have to see them again and hear about it." 

"But," I replied, "that's the very reason I cling to the small 
town. I want to see the people about whom I am writing, and 
live with them. That 's what brings the rewards in our business. 
It 's the personal side that makes it worth while, the real living of 
a newspaper instead of merely writing to fill its columns." 

In many small towns women have not heretofore been overly 
welcome on the staff of the local paper, for the small town is es- 
sentially conservative and suspicious of change. This war, how- 
ever, is changing all that, and many a woman with newspaper am- 
bitions will now have her chance at home. 

For ten years I have been what may be classified as a small- 
town newspaper woman, serving in every capacity from society 
reporter to city and managing editor. During this time I have 
been tempted many times to go to fields where national fame and 
a larger salary awaited those who won. But it was that latter 
part that held me back, that and one other factor: "Those who 
won," and "What do they get out of it more than I?" 

It is generally conceded that for one woman who succeeds in 
the metropolitan newspaper field about ten fail before the vicissi- 
tudes of city life, the orders of managing editors, and the merci- 
less grind of the big city's working world. And with those who 
succeed, what have they more than I ? They sign their names to 
articles; they receive big salaries; they are famous — as such fame 
goes. Why is a signed name to an article necessary, when every- 
one knows when the paper comes out that I wrote the article? 
What does national fame mean compared with the fact that the 
local laws of the "Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Ani- 
mals " were not being enforced and that I wrote stories that reme- 
died this condition? 

I began newspaper life as society reporter of a daily paper in a 
Middle- Western town of ten thousand inhabitants. That is, I 
supposed I was going to be society reporter, but before very long 
I found myself doing police assignments, sport, editing telegraph, 
and whatever the occasion demanded. 

I suppose that the beginnings of everyone's business life always 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 65 

remain vivid memories. The first morning I reported for work 
at seven o'clock. Naturally, no one was in the front office, as the 
news department of a small-town newspaper office is sometimes 
called. I was embarrassed and nervous, and sat anxiously await- 
ing the arrival of the city editor. In five minutes he gave me suffi- 
cient instructions to last a year, but the only one I remember was, 
"Ask all the questions you can think of, and don't let anyone 
bluff you out of a story." 

My first duty, and one that I performed every morning for 
several years, was to "make" an early morning train connecting 
with a large city, forty miles away. It was no easy task to ap- 
proach strangers and ask their names and destination; but it was 
all good experience, and it taught me how to approach people and 
to ask personal questions without being rude. 

During my service as society reporter I learned much, so much 
that I am convinced there is no work in the smaller towns better 
suited to women. Any girl who is bright and quick, who knows 
the ethics of being a lady, can hold this position and make better 
money at it than by teaching or clerking. 

Each trade, they say, has its tricks, and being a society reporter 
is no exception. In towns of from one thousand to two thou- 
sand inhabitants, the news that Mrs. X. is going to give a party 
spreads rapidly by that system of wireless telegraphy that excels 
the Marconi — neighborhood gossip. But in the larger towns it 
is not so easy. In "our town," whenever there is a party the ice 
cream is ordered from a certain confectioner. Daily he permitted 
us to see his order book. If Mrs. Jones ordered a quart of ice 
cream we knew that she was only having a treat for the family. 
If it were two quarts or more, it was a party, and if it was ice 
cream in molds, we knew a big formal function was on foot. 

Society reporting is a fertile field, and for a long time I had been 
thinking that society columns were too dull. My ideal of a news- 
paper is that every department should be edited so that everyone 
would read all the paper. I knew that men rarely read the social 
column. One day a man said to me that he always called his wife 
his better judgment instead of his better half. That appealed to 
me as printable, but where to put it in the paper.'* Why not in 
my own department? I did so. That night when the paper 
came out everyone clamored to know who the man was, for I had 
merely written, "A man in town calls his wife his better judgment 
instead of his better half." 

Then I decided to make the society department a reflection of 



66 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

our daily life and sayings. In order to get these in I used the ini- 
tials of my title, " S. R." I never used names, but I always man- 
aged to identify my persons. 

As one might expect, I brought down a storm about my head. 
Many persons took the hints for themselves when they were not 
so intended, and there were some amusing results. For instance, 
when I said in the paper that " a certain man in a down-town store 
has perfect manners," the next day twelve men thanked me, and 
I received four boxes of candy as expressions of gratitude. 

There were no complaints about the society column being dull 
after this; everyone read it and laughed at ib, and it was quoted 
in many exchanges. Of course, I was careful to hurt no one's 
feelings, but I did occasionally have a little good-natured fun at 
the expense of people who would n't mind it. Little personal 
paragraphs of this sort must never be malicious or mean — if the 
paper is to keep its friends. 

Of all my newspaper experience I like best to dwell on the so- 
ciety reporting; but if I were to advance I knew that I must 
take on more responsibiUty, so I became city editor of another 
paper. I was virtually managing editor, for the editor and owner 
was a politician and was away much of the time. It was then 
that I began to realize the responsibility of my position, to grap- 
ple with the problem of dealing fairly both with my employer 
and the public. The daily life with its varying incidents, the big 
civic issues, the stories to be handled, the rights of the advertis- 
ers to be considered, the adjusting of the news to the business 
department — all these were brought before me with a powerful 
clarity. 

When a woman starts on a city paper she knows that there are 
linotypes, presses and other machinery. Often she has seen them 
work; but her knowledge of "how" they work is generally vague. 
It was on my third day as city editor that I realized my woeful 
ignorance of the newspaper business from the mechanical view- 
point. I had just arrived at the office when the foreman came to 
my desk. 

"Say," he said, "we did n't get any stuff set last night. Power 
was off. Better come out and pick out the plate you want to 
fill with.'^ 

What he meant by the power being off I could understand, and 
perforce I went out to select the plate. He handed me long slabs 
of plate matter to read. Later I learned that printed copies of 
the plate are sent for selection, but in my ignorance I took up the 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 67 

slabs and tried to read the type. To my astonishment it was all 
backward, and I found myself wondering if it were a Chinese 
feature story. Finally I threw myself on his mercy and told him 
to select what he chose. As I left the composing-room I heard 
him say to one of the printers: "That 's what comes of the boss 
hiring a hen editor." 

Shortly after noon a linotype operator came to me with his 
hands full of copy. 

''If you want any of this dope in the paper," he said, "you'll 
have to grab off a paragraph here and there. My machine 's got 
a bad squirt, and it '11 take an hour or more to fix it." 

Greek, all Greek! A squirt! I was too busy "grabbing off" 
paragraphs to investigate; but then and there I resolved to pene- 
trate all these mysteries. I found the linotype operator eager to 
show me how his machine works, and the foreman was glad to 
take me around and instruct me in his department and also in 
the pressroom. I have had trouble with printers since; but in 
the end they had to admit that the "hen editor" knew what 
she was talking about. 

There is a great cry now for woman's advancement. If the 
women are hunting equality as their goal let them not seek out the 
crowded, hostile cities, but remain in the smaller places where 
their work can stand out distinctly. A trite phrase expresses it 
that a newspaper is the "voice of the people." What better 
than that a woman should set the tune for that voice? 

Equality with men! I sit at my desk looking out over the 
familiar home scene. A smell of fresh ink comes to me, and a 
paper just off the press is slapped down on my desk. 

"Look!" says the foreman. "We got out some paper to- 
day, did n't we.^" 

" We ! " How 's that for equality? He has been twenty years 
at his trade and I only ten, yet he includes me. 

When I am tempted to feel that my field is limited, my tools 
crude, and my work unhonored and unsung, I recall a quota- 
tion I read many years ago, and I will place it here at the end of 
the "hen editor's" uneventful story. 

Back before my mind floats that phrase, "Buried in this burg." 
If a person has ability, will not the v/orld learn it? 

"If a man can write a better book, preach a better sermon, or 
sing a more glorious song than his neighbor, though he build his 
house in the woods, the world will make a beaten path to his 
door.'* '~ 



68 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

That a personal experience story may be utilized to 
show readers how to do something is demonstrated in the 
following article taken from The Designer. It was illus- 
trated by a half-tone made from a wash drawing of one 
corner of the burlap room. 

A Bedroom in Burlap 

The Most Satisfactory Room in Our Bungalow 

By KATHERINE VAN DORN 

Our burlap room is the show room of our bungalow. Visitors 
are guided through the living-room, the bedroom, the sleeping- 
porch and kitchen, and allowed to express their delight and satis- 
faction while we wait with bated breath for the grand surprise to 
be given them. Then, when they have concluded, we say: 

" But you should see our burlap room ! " Then we lead the way 
up the stairs to the attic and again stand and wait. We know 
what is coming, and, as we revel in the expressions of admiration 
evoked, we again declaim with enormous pride: ''We made it 
all ourselves!" 

There is a sohd satisfaction in making a room, especially for an 
amateur who hardly expects to undertake room-making as a pro- 
fession. We regard our room as an original creation produced by 
our own genius, not likely to be duphcated in our personal experi- 
ence. It grew in this wise : 

When we came to the bungalow last spring the family numbered 
three instead of the two of the year before. Now number three, 
a healthy and bouncing young woman, necessitated a "sleeping- 
in" maid if her parents were ever to be able to detach themselves 
from her person. We had never had a sleeping-in maid at the 
bungalow before and the problem of where to put her was a seri- 
ous one. We well knew that no seK-respecting servant would 
condescend to sleep in an attic, although the attic was cool, airy 
and comfortable. We rather thought, too, that the maid might 
despise us if we gave her the bedroom and took up our quarters 
under the rafters. It would be an easy enough matter for car- 
penters and plasterers to put a room in the attic, but we lacked 
the money necessary for such a venture. And so we puzzled. 
At first we thought of curtains, but the high winds which visit 
us made curtains impracticable. Then we thought of tacking 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 69 

the curtains top and bottom, and from this the idea evolved. 
The carpenter whom we consulted proved to be amenable to 
suggestion and agreed to put us up a framework in a day. We 
helped. We outlined the room on the floor. This took two strips 
of wood about one and a half by two inches. The other two sides 
of the room were formed by the wall of the attic and by the 
meeting place of the roof and floor — that is, there was in real- 
ity no fourth wall; the room simply ended where floor and roof 
met. Two strips were nailed to the rafters in positions similar 
to those on the floor, and then an upright strip was inserted 
and nailed fast at intervals of every three feet. This distance 
was decided by the fact that curtain materials usually come a 
yard wide. For a door we used a discarded screen-door, which, 
having been denuded of the bits of wire chnging to it, answered 
the purpose very well. The door completed the skeleton. 

We used a beautiful soft blue burlap. Tacking on proved a 
more difficult matter than we had anticipated, owing to the fact 
that our carpenter had used cypress for the framework. We 
stretched the material taut and then tacked it fast with sharp- 
pointed, large-headed brass tacks, and while inserting these we 
measured carefully the distances between the tacks in order to 
keep this trimming uniform. The two walls supplied by the 
framework were quickly covered, but the rough wall of the attic 
necessitated some cutting, as we had to tack the burlap to the up- 
rights and these had not been placed with yard-wide material in 
view. Above the screen-door frame was a hiatus of space running 
up into the peak. The carpenter had thoughtfully run two strips 
up to the roof and this enabled us to fill in by cutting and turning 
in the cloth. A corresponding space above the window received 
similar treatment. Then we covered the inner surface of the 
screen door and we had a room. 

But we were far from satisfied. The room looked bare and 
crude. We bought a can of dark-oak stain and gave the floor a 
coat and this improved matters so much that we stained the wood 
visible on the door frame and about the window. Having finished 
this, we saw the need of doing something for the ceiling. The 
ceiling was merely the inner surface of the roof. The builders had 
made it of boards of varying sizes, the rafters were rough and 
splintery and there were myriads of nails sticking through every- 
where. It looked a hopeless task. But we bought more stain 
and went to work. Before beginning we covered our precious 
blue walls with newspapers, donned our oldest clothes and spread 



70 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

papers well over the floor. It was well that we did. The staming 
was not difficult work but the nails made it splashy and we were 
pretty well spotted when we finished. 

But when we did finish we felt compensated. The nails had 
become invisible. The dull blue walls with their bright brass 
trimming, the soft brown floor and the stained, raftered roof 
made the room the most attractive in the house. We could not 
rest, although the hour was late and we were both tired, until 
we had furnished it. We put in a couple of small rugs, a brass 
bed, and a white bureau. We hung two pictures securely upon 
the uprights of the skeleton. We added a couple of chairs and 
a rack for clothing, put up a white madras curtain at the win- 
dow, and regarded the eftect with the utmost satisfaction. The 
room answered the purpose exactly. The burlap was thick enough 
to act as a screen. It was possible to see movement through it, 
but not form. It insured privacy and still permitted the air to 
pass through for ventilation. As a finishing touch we screwed a 
knob on the outside of the door, put a brass hook on the inside 
and went downstairs to count the cost. 

As a quick and inexpensive method of adding to the number of 
rooms in one's house, the making of a burlap room is without an 
equal. The idea is not patented, and we who deem ourselves its 
creators, are only too happy to send it on, in the hope that it may 
be of service to some other puzzled householder who is wondering 
where to put an added family member. 

The Confession Story. Closely akin to the personal ex- 
perience article is the so-called ^'confession story." Usu- 
ally pubHshed anonymously, confession stories may reveal 
more personal and intimate experiences than a writer 
would ordinarily care to give in a signed article. Needless 
to say, most readers are keenly interested in such revela- 
tions, even though they are made anonymously. Like 
personal experience stories, they are told in the first person 
with a liberal use of the pronoun ''I." 

A writer need not confine himself to his own experiences 
for confession stories; he may obtain valuable material for 
them from others. Not infrequently his name is attached 
to these articles accompanied by the statement that the 
confession was ''transcribed," ^' taken down," or ''re* 
corded" by the writer. 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 71 

Conditions of life in classes of society with which the 
reader is not familiar may be brought home to him through 
the medium of the confession story. It may be made the 
means of arousing interest in questions about which the 
average reader cares little. The average man or woman, 
for example, is probably little concerned with the problem 
of the poorly paid college professor, but hundreds of thou- 
sands doubtless read with interest the leading article in an 
issue of the Saturday Evening Post entitled, ''The Pressure 
on the Professor.'* This was a confession story, which did 
not give the author's own experiences but appeared as 
''Transcribed by Walter E. Weyl." This article was ob- 
viously written with the purpose, skillfully concealed, of 
calling attention to the hard lot of the underpaid professor. 

Constructive criticism of existing conditions may be suc- 
cessfully embodied in the form of a confession article that 
describes the evils as they have been experienced by one 
individual. If the article is to be entirely effective and 
just, the experience of the one person described must be 
fairly typical of that of others in the same situation. In 
order to show that these experiences are characteristic, the 
writer may find it advantageous to introduce facts and fig- 
ures tending to prove that his own case is not an isolated ex- 
ample. In the confession article mentioned above, "The 
Pressure on the Professor," the assistant professor who 
makes the confession, in order to demonstrate that his own 
case is typical, cites statistics collected by a colleague at 
Stanford University giving the financial status of 112 
assistant professors in various American universities. 

Confessions that show how faults and personal difficul- 
ties have been overcome prove helpful to readers laboring 
under similar troubles. Here again, what is related should 
be typical rather than exceptional. 

Examples of the Confession Story. That an intimate 
account of the financial difficulties of a young couple as 
told by the wife, may not only make an interesting story 
but may serve as a warning to others, is shown in the con- 
fession story below. Signed ''F. B.," and illustrated with 



72 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

a pen and ink sketch of the couple at work over their ac- 
counts, it was printed in Every Week, a popular illustrated 
periodical formerly published by the Crowell PubHshing 
Company, New York. 

The Things We Learned to Do Without 

We were married within a month of our commencement, after 
three years of courtship at a big Middle West university. Look- 
ing back, it seems to me that rich, tumultuous college life of ours 
was wholly pagan. All about us was the free-handed atmosphere 
of ''easy money," and in our "crowd" a tacit impHcation that a 
good time was one of the primary necessities of life. Such were 
our ideas when we married on a salary of one hundred dollars a 
month. We took letters of introduction to some of the "smart" 
people in a suburb near Chicago, and they proved so delightfully 
cordial that we settled down among them without stopping to 
consider the discrepancies between their ways and our income. 
We were put up at a small country club — a simple affair enough, 
comparatively speaking — that demanded six weeks' salary in ini- 
tial dues and much more in actual subsequent expense. "Every- 
body" went out for Saturday golf and stayed for dinner and 
dancing. 

By fall there was in working operation a dinner club of the 
"younger married set," as our local column in the city papers 
called us; an afternoon bridge club; and a small theater club that 
went into town every fortnight for dinner and a show. Costly 
little amusements, but hardly more than were due charming 
young people of our opportunities and tastes. I think that was 
our attitude, although we did not admit it. In September we 
rented a "smart" little apartment. We had planned to furnish 
it by means of several generous checks which were family contri- 
butions to our array of wedding gifts. What we did was to buy 
the furniture on the instalment plan, agreeing to pay twenty dol- 
lars a month till the bill was settled, and we put the furniture 
money into running expenses. 

It was the beginning of a custom. They gave most generously, 
that older generation. Visiting us, Max's mother would slip a 
bill into my always empty purse when we went shopping; or 
mine would drop a gold piece into my top bureau drawer for me 
to find after she had gone. And there were always checks for 
birthdays. 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 73 

Everything went into running expenses; yet, in spite of it, our 
expenses ran quite away. Max said I was " too valuable a woman 
to put into the kitchen," so we hired a maid, good-humoredly 
giving her carle blanche on the grocery and meat market. Our 
bills, for all our dining out, were enormous. There were clothes, 
too. Max delighted in silk socks and tailored shirts, and he 
ordered his monogramed cigarettes by the thousand. My own 
taste ran to expensive little hats. 

It is hardly necessary to recount the details. We had our first 
tremendous quarrel at the end of six months, when, in spite of our 
furniture money and our birthday checks, we found ourselves two 
hundred and fifty dollars in debt. But as we cooled we decided 
that there was nothing we could do without; we could only bo 
**more careful." 

Every month we reached that same conclusion. There was 
nothing we could do without. At the end of the year on a $1200 
salary we were $700 behind; eight months later, after our first 
baby came, we were over a thousand — and by that time, it 
seemed, permanently estranged. I actually was carrying out a 
threat of separation and stripping the apartment, one morning, 
when Max came back from town and sat down to discuss matters 
with me. 

A curious labyrinthine discussion it was, winding from recrim- 
inations and flat admissions that our marriage was a failure and 
our love was dead, to the most poignant memories of our engage- 
ment days. But its central point was Max's detached insistence 
that we make marriage over into a purely utilitarian affair. 

"Man needs the decencies of a home," he said over and over. 
" It does n't do a fellow any good with a firm like mine to have 
them know he can't manage his affairs. And my firm is the kind 
of firm I want to work for. This next year is important; and if I 
spend it dragging through a nasty divorce business, knowing that 
everybody knows, I '11 be about thirty per cent efficient. I 'm 
willing to admit that marriage — even a frost like ours — is use- 
ful. Will you?" 

I had to. My choice rested between going home, where there 
were two younger sisters, or leaving the baby somewhere and 
striking out for myself. 

" It seems to me, " said Max, taking out his pencil, "that if two 
reasonably clever people can put their best brain power and eight 
hours a day into a home, it might amount to something sometime. 
The thing resolves itself into a choice between the things we can 



74 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

do without and the things we can't. We'll list them. We can't 
do without three meals and a roof; but there must be something." 

"You can certainly give up silk socks and cigarettes," I said; 
and, surprisingly, on this old sore point between us Max agreed. 

"You can give up silk stockings, then," he said, and put them 
down. Silk socks and silk stockings! Out of all possible 
economies, they were the only things that we could think of. 
Finally — 

"We could make baby an excuse, " I said, " and never get out to 
the club till very late — after dinner — and stay just for the 
dancing. And we could get out of the dinner club and the theater 
bunch. Only, we ought to have some fun." 

"You can go to matinees, and tell me about them, so we can 
talk intelligently. We'll say we can't leave the kid nights — " 

" We can buy magazines and read up on plays. We '11 talk well 
enough if we do that, and people won't know we have n't been. 
Put down: * Magazines for plays.' " 

He did it quite seriously. Do we seem very amusing to you? 
So anxious lest we should betray our economies — so impressed 
with our social "position" and what people might think! It is 
funny enough to me, looking back; but it was bitter business then. 

I set myself to playing the devoted and absorbed young mother. 
But it was a long, long time before it became the sweetest of reali- 
ties. I cried the first time I refused a bridge game to "stay with 
baby"; and I carried a sore heart those long spring afternoons 
when I pushed his carriage conspicuously up and down the avenue 
while the other women motored past me out for tea at the club. 
Yet those long walks were the best thing that ever happened to me. 
I had time to think, for one thing; and I gained splendid health, 
losing the superfluous flesh I was beginning to carry, and the 
headaches that usually came after days of lunching and bridge 
and dining. 

I fell into the habit, too, of going around by the market, merely 
to have an objective, and bujdng the day's supplies. The first 
month of that habit my bills showed a decrease of $16.47. I shall 
always remember that sum, because it is certainly the biggest 
I have ever seen. I began to ask the prices of things; and I made 
my first faint effort at applying our game of substitution to the 
food problem, a thing which to me is still one of the most fasci- 
nating factors in housekeeping. 

One afternoon in late summer, I found a delightful little bun- 
galow in process of building, on a side street not so very far from 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 75 

the proper avenue. I investigated idly, and found that the rent 
was thirty dollars less than we were paying. Yet even then I 
hesitated. 

It was Max who had the courage to decide. 

''The only thing we are doing without is the address/' he said. 
*'And that isn't a loss that looks like $360 to me." 

All that fall and winter we kept doggedly at our game of sub- 
stitution. Max bought a ready-made Tuxedo, and I ripped out 
the label and sewed in one from a good tailor. I carried half a 
dozen dresses from the dyer's to a woman who evolved three very 
decent gowns ; and then I toted them home in a box with a mark- 
ing calculated to impress any chance acquaintance. We were so 
ashamed of our attempts at thrift that they came hard. 

Often enough we quarreled after we had been caught in some 
sudden temptation that set us back a pretty penny, and we were 
inevitably bored and cross when we refused some gayety for econ- 
omy's sake. We resolutely decided to read aloud the evenings 
the others went to the theater club; and as resolutely we substi- 
tuted a stiff game of chess for the bridge that we could not afford. 
But we had to learn to like them both. 

Occasionally we entertained at very small, very informal din- 
ners, "on account of the baby" ; and definitely discarded the wines 
that added the "smartness" demanded at formal affairs.- Peo- 
ple came to those dinners in their second or tliird best ; but they 
stayed late, and laughed hilariously to the last second of their stay. 

In the spring we celebrated Max's second respectable rise in 
salary by dropping out of the country club. We could do without 
it by that time. At first we thought it necessary to substitute a 
determined tramp for the Sunday morning golf game; but we 
presently gave that up. We were becoming garden enthusiasts. 
And as a substitution for most of the pleasure cravings of life, 
gardening is to be highly recommended. Discontent has a curious 
little trick of flowing out of the earthy end of a hoe. 

Later that summer I found that a maid was one of the things I 
could do without, making the discovery in an interregnum not of 
my original choosing. A charwoman came in for the heavier 
work, and I took over the cooking. Almost immediately, in spite 
of my inexperience, the bills dropped. I could not cook rich pas- 
tries and fancy desserts, and fell back on simple salads and fruit 
instead. I dipped into the household magazines, followed on into 
technical articles on efficiency, substituted labor-savers wherever 
I could, and started my first muddled set of accounts. 



76 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

At the beginning of the new year I tried my prentice hand on a 
budget; and that was the year that we emerged from debt and be- 
gan to save. 

That was six very short years ago. When, with three babies, 
the bungalow became a trifle small, we built a Uttle country house 
and moved farther out. Several people whom we liked best 
among that firsf exclusive younger set" have moved out too, 
and formed the nucleus of a neighborhood group that has won- 
derful times on incomes no one of which touches $4000 a year. 

Ours is not as much as that yet; but it is enough to leave a wide 
and comfortable margin all around our wants. Max has given 
up his pipe for cigarettes (unmonogramed), and patronizes a good 
tailor for business reasons. But in everything else our substitu- 
tions stand: gardening for golf; picnics for roadhouse dinners; 
simple food, simple clothing, simple hospitahty, books, a fire, and 
a game of chess on winter nights. 

We don't even talk about economies any more. We like them. 
But — every Christmas there comes to me via the Christmas tree 
a box of stockings, and for Max a box of socks — heavy silk. 
There never is any card in either box; but I think we'll probably 
get them till we die. 

The following short confession, signed " Mrs. M. F. E./' 
was awarded the first prize by the American Magazine in 
a contest for articles on '* The Best Thing Experience Has 
Taught Me": 

Forty Years Bartered for What ? 

A TINY bit of wisdom, but as vital as protoplasm. I know, for 
I bartered forty precious years of wifehood and motherhood to 
learn it. 

During the years of my childhood and girlhood, our family 
passed from wealth to poverty. My father and only brother 
were killed in battle during the Civil War; our slaves were freed; 
our plantations melted from my mother's white hands during 
the Reconstruction days; our big town house was sold for 
taxes. 

When I married, my only dowry was a fierce pride and an over- 
whelming ambition to get back our material prosperity. My 
husband was making a ''good hving." He was kind, easy-going, 
with a rare capacity for enjoying life and he loved his wife with 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 77 

that chivalrous, unquestioning, "the queen-can-do-no-wrong" 
type of love. 

But even in our days of courting I answered his ardent love- 
making with, "And we will work and save and buy back the big 
house; then we will — " etc., etc. 

And he? Ah, alone at sixty, I can still hear echoing down the 
years his big tender laugh, as he M say, "Oh, what a de-ah, ambi- 
tious little sweetheart I have!" 

He owned a home, a little cottage with a rose garden at one 
side of it — surely, with love, enough for any bride. But I — 
I saw only the ancestral mansion up the street, the big old house 
that had passed out of the hands of our family. 

I would have no honejrmoon trip; I wanted the money instead. 
John kissed each of my palms before he put the money into them. 
My fingers closed greedily over the bills; it was the nest egg, the 
beginning. 

Next I had him dismiss his bookkeeper and give me the place. 
I did n't go to his store — Southern ladies did n't do that in those 
days — but I kept the books at home, and I wrote all the business 
letters. So it happened when John came home at night, tired 
from his day's work at the store, I had no time for diversions, for 
love-making, no hours to walk in the rose garden by his side — 
no, we must talk business. 

I can see John now on many a hot night — and summer is hot 
In the Gulf States — dripping with perspiration as he dictated his 
letters to me, while I, my aching head near the big hot lamp, wrote 
on and on with hurried, nervous fingers. Outside there would be 
the evening breeze from the Gulf, the moonlight, the breath of 
the roses, all the romance of the southern night — but not for us! 

The children came — four, in quick succession. But so fixed 
were my eyes on the goal of Success, I scarcely realized the mys- 
tery of motherhood. Oh, I loved them! I loved John, too. I 
would willingly have laid down my life for him or for any one of 
the children. And I intended sometime to stop and enjoy John 
and the children. Oh, yes, I was going really to live after we had 
bought back the big house, and had done so and so! In the 
meanwhile, I held my breath and worked. 

" I '11 be so glad," I remember saying one day to a friend, "when 
all my children are old enough to be off at school all day ! " Think 
of that! Glad when the best years of our lives together were 
passed! The day came when the last little fellow trudged off to 
school and I no longer had a baby to hamper me. We were 



78 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

living now in the big old home. We had bought it back and paid 
for it. I no longer did John's bookkeeping for him — he paid a 
man a hundred dollars a month to do that — but I still kept my 
hand on the business. 

Then suddenly one day — John died. Died in what should 
have been the prime and vigor of his life. 

I worked harder than ever then, not from necessity, but be- 
cause in the first few years after John left I was afraid to stop and 
think. So the years hurried by! One by one the children grew 
up and entered more or less successful careers of their own. . . . 
I don't feel that I know them so very well. 

And now that the time of life has come when I must stop and 
think, I ask m3'seK: "What did you do with the wonderful gifts 
Life laid in your lap — the love of a good man, domestic happi- 
ness, the chance to know intimately four little souls .^" 

And being honest I have to answer: "I bartered Life's great 
gifts for Life's pitiful extras — for pride, for show!" 

If my experience were unique it would not be worth publishing, 
but it is onlj^ too common. Think of the -^dves who exchange the 
best years of their lives, their husband's comfort, his peace of 
mind, if not to buy back the family mansion, then for a higher 
social position; sometimes it is merely for — clothes! 

It is to you women who still have the opportunity to "walk 
with John in the garden" that I give my dearly bought bit of 
experience. Stop holding your breath until you get this or that; 
stop reaching out bhndly for to-morrow's prize; live to-day! 

The *'How-to-(io-Sometliing" Article. Articles the 
primary purpose of which is to give directions for doing 
something in a particular way, are always in demand. The 
simplest type is the recipe or formula containing a few 
directions for combining ingredients. More elaborate pro- 
cesses naturally demand more complex directions and re- 
quire longer articles. In the simpler types the directions are 
given in the imperative form; that is, the reader is told to 
''take" this thing and that, and to ''mix" it wdth something 
else. Although such recipe directions are clear, they are 
not particularly interesting. Many readers, especially 
those of agricultural journals, are tired of being told to do 
this and that in order to get better results. They are in- 
clined to suspect the writer of giving directions on the basis 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 79 

of untried theory rather than on that of successful practice. 
There is an advantage, therefore, in getting away from for- 
mal advice and directions and in describing actual processes 
as they have been carried on successfully. 

Articles intended to give practical guidance are most in- 
teresting when cast in the form of an interview, a j>ersonal 
experience, or a narrative. In an interview article, a person 
may indirectly give directions to others by describing in his 
own words the methods that he has used to accomplish the 
desired results. Or the writer, by telling his own experi- 
ences in doing something, may give readers directions in an 
interesting form. 

Whatever method he adopts, the writer must keep in 
mind the questions that his readers would be likely to ask if 
he were explaining the method or process to them in per- 
son. To one who is thoroughly familiar with a method the 
whole process is so clear that he forgets how necessary it is 
to describe every step to readers unfamiHar with it. The 
omission of a single point may make it impossible for the 
reader to understand or to follow the directions. Although 
a writer need not insult the intelligence of his readers by 
telling them what they already know, he may well assume 
that they need to be reminded tactfully of many things 
that they may have known but have possibly forgotten. 

Two Practical Guidance Articles. A method of filing 
office records, as explained apparently by the man who de- 
vised it, is well set forth in the following combination of the 
personal experience and the '^ how-to-do-something' Hypes 
of articles. It appeared in System with a half-tone repro- 
duction of a photograph showing a man looking over rec- 
ords in a drawer of the desk at which he is seated. 

Who 11 Do John's Work? 

By M. C. HOBART 

" It 's a quarter after 8 and Schuyler has n't showed up," 
telephoned Beggs, one of our foremen, last Tuesday morning, 
"I've put Fanning on his machine, but that won't help much 



80 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

unless I can get somebody to work at Fanning's bench. Got any- 
body you can let me have for to-day?" 

I did n't know offhand. But I told Beggs I'd call him back. 

Ten minutes later a young lathe operator reported to Beggs. 
He was able to run Fanning's machine while the latter tempora- 
rily filled the shoes of the absent Schuyler. 

Scarcely a week passes that does not bring a similar call to our 
employment office. While our plant, as plants go, is not large, we 
always hav6 a number of men working with us who are fitted by 
experience and adaptability to do other work than that which 
they are hired to do. Such men are invaluable to know about, es- 
pecially when an operator stays away for a day or perhaps a week 
and the shop is full of orders. Once it was a problem to find the 
right man immediately. A few additions to our employment 
records made it possible to keep track of each man's complete 
qualifications. 

The employment records I keep in my desk in the deep drawer. 
They are filed alphabetically by name. When we hhe a man we 
write his name and the job he is to fill on the outside of a 9 by 12 
manila envelope. Into this envelope we put his application, his 
references, and other papers. His application tells us what kinds 
of work he can do and has done in other shops. 

There are 29 different kinds of work to be done in our shops, 
from gear cutting to running errands. I have listed these opera- 
tions, alphabetically, on a cardboard the exact length of the em- 
ployment record envelope, 12 inches. When a man tells me in 
his appUcation that he not only can operate a drill press, for 
which he is hired, but has also worked at grinding, I fit my card- 
board list to the top of the employment record envelope and 
punch two notches along the top directly opposite the words 
*' drill press" and ''grinding" on my list. Then I file away the 
envelope. 

I rest secure now in my knowledge that I have not buried a po- 
tential grinder in a drill press operator, or that I do not have to 
carry his double qualifications in my mind. I know that if Beggs 
should suddenly telephone me some morning that his grinder is 
absent — sick, or fishing, perhaps — I need only take my card- 
board list and, starting at A, run it down my file until I come to 
the envelope of the drill press operator. I am stopped there auto- 
matically by the second notch on the envelope which corresponds 
in position to the word "grinder" on my list. 
. And there is every likelihood that, with the necessary explan- 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 81 

ation to the man's own foreman, Beggs will get his grinder for 
the day. 

From the following article, printed in Farm and Fireside^ 
city and country readers aUke may glean much practical 
information concerning ways and means of making a com- 
fortable living from a small farm. It was illustrated by 
four half-tone reproductions of photographs showing (1) 
the house, (2) the woman at her desk with a typewriter be- 
fore her, (3) the woman in her dining-room about to serve a 
meal from a labor-saving service wagon, and (4) the woman 
in the poultry yard with a basket of eggs. 

Ten Acres and a Living 

She was young, popular, and had been reared in the 

city. Everybody laughed when she decided 

to farm — but that was four years ago 

By ALICE MARY KIMBALL 

When she decided to be a farmer everybody laughed. She was 
young, popular, unusually fond of frocks and fun. She had been 
reared in the city. She did n't know a Jersey from a Hereford, or 
a Wyandotte from a Plymouth Rock. 

"You'll be back in six months," her friends said. 

Four years have passed. Mrs. Charles S. Tupper still is " bur- 
ied" in the country. Moreover, she is supplying eggs, chickens, 
honey, and home-canned goods to those of her former associates 
who are willing to pay for quality. 

"Farming," said Mrs. Tupper, "is the ideal vocation for the 
woman who feels the modern desire for a job and the need of mar- 
riage and a home. 

"I never wanted a job so keenly as when I found myself in a 
small city apartment without enough to do to keep me busy. 
After I'd swept and dusted and prepared meals for two, I had 
hours of time on my hands. The corner bakeshop, the laundry, 
and modern conveniences had thrust upon me more leisure than I 
could use. Mr. Tupper is a young engineer whose work takes him 
to various parts of the Southwest. In his absence I felt strongly 
the need of filling up my idle hours in some interesting, useful way.. 



82 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

" I did n't quite like the idea of spending all my spare time on 
cards, calling, women's clubs, and social pleasures. I longed to 
be a real partner to my husband and to share in making the family 
income as well as spending it. 

''We had a few thousand saved for a home, and were trying to 
decide where to build. One day it flashed upon me: 'Why invest 
in city property? Why not a little farm? Then we'll have a 
home; I '11 have a job, and can make our living. ' " 

The idea materialized into a modern bungalow on a 10-acre 
farm in Westdale, Missouri, an hour's drive from Kansas City. 
Mr. Tupper's salary furnished working capital for the enterprise 
and Mrs. Tupper has found congenial work as farmer-in-chief. 

Poultry, bees, and a vegetable garden are Mrs. Tupper's spe- 
cialities. Her side lines are a pig and a registered Jersey cow. She 
looks after the poultry, works in garden and apiary, and milks the 
cow herself. She employs very little help. 

"It was n't difficult to get a start in learning to farm," Mrs. 
Tupper explained. " I visited farms and studied the methods of 
farmers and their wives. I asked lots of questions. 

" I did n't have any old fogyisms to unlearn, and I did n't ac- 
quire any. I went straight to the agricultural college and the 
state poultry experiment station for instructions. While I was 
living in the country supervising the building of the bungalow, I 
read and digested every bulletin I could get. I'm still studying 
bulletins. I subscribe for several farm papers and a bee journal. 

"Of course, I learned a great deal from the practical experi- 
ence of the people about me, but I checked up everything to the 
rules and directions of government and state agricultural experts, 
which may be had for the price of a postage stamp. I tried to 
take orders intelligently. I ignored old rules for poultry and 
bee-keeping." 

Mrs. Tupper's chickens are hatched in incubators, hovered in a 
coal-heated brooder house, fed according to experiment-station 
directions, and reared in poultry houses built from experiment- 
station designs. From the first they have been practically free 
from lice and disease. She gets winter eggs. Even in zero weather 
and at times when feed is most costly, her spring pullets more than 
pay their way. 

"Bees responded as readily to proper treatment," she said. 
" My second season I harvested $265 worth of comb honey from 
twenty working swarms. And I was stung not a half-dozen 
times at that.'' 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 83 

Some of Mrs. Tupper's neighbors were inclined to joke at first 
at her appetite for bulletins, her belief in experts, and her rigid in- 
sistence on pure-bred stock and poultry. They admit now that 
her faith has been justified. 

If Mrs. Tupper had trod in the well-worn neighborhood ruts, 
she would have marketed her produce by the country-store-com- 
mission-man-retailer-consumer route; but again she did not. 
From the first she planned to plug the leakage of farm profits in 
middlemen's commissions. When she had anything to sell, she 
put on a good-looking tailored suit, a becoming hat, smart shoes 
and gloves, and went to the city to talk to ultimate consumers. 

The consciousness of being dressed appropriately — not ex- 
pensively or ornately — is a valuable aid to the farm saleswoman, 
Mrs. Tupper thinks. 

" If a salesman comes to me shabbily dressed or flashily dressed, 
I can't give him a fair hearing," she said. "I may let him talk 
on, but I decide against him the instant I look at him. So I rea- 
soned that a trim, pleasing appearance would be as valuable an 
asset to me as to the men who sell pickles, insurance, or gilt-edged 
bonds. It would mean a favorable first impression and open the 
way to show samples and make a sales talk. 

**If I tried to interview a prospective customer handicapped by 
the consciousness that my skirt hung badly or that my shoes 
were shabby, not only would I be timid and ill at ease, but my 
appearance would suggest to the city buyer the veryshpshod- 
ness and lack of reliability he fears in buying direct from the 
farm. 

" I go strong on attractive samples. It would be useless to try 
for fancy prices if I brought honey to town in mean-looking cases 
or rusty cans. A slight drip down the side of a package might not 
be proof positive of poor quality, but it would frighten away a 
careful buyer. Likewise, I do not illustrate my egg sales talks 
with a sample dozen of odd sizes and shapes. It is needless to add 
that goods delivered to customers must be of the same quality 
and appearance as the samples, and that one must keep one's 
promises to the dot. A little well-directed enterprise will land a 
customer, but only good service can hold him." 

When the current wholesale price of honey was $3 a case, Mrs. 
Tupper's comb honey has been in demand at from 20 to 30 cents 
a pound. She disposes of every pound to private customers and 
to one grocery store which caters to "fancy" trade. She sells 
eggs from her 400 Anconas at from 4 to 6 cents more a dozen than 



84 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

the country store is paying its patrons who bring in eggs and 
" take them out in trade." 

Mrs. Tupper figured that if a trademark has advertising pull 
for a manufacturing concern, it would help the farm business. 
She christened her 10 acres "Graceland Farm/' and this name 
is stamped on everything that leaves her place. She had cards 
printed bearing the name of the farm, its telephone number, and 
its products. Graceland Farm is also emphasized on letter heads. 

"Prompt attention to correspondence is an easy method of 
advertising a farm business," she suggested. '*A typewritten 
letter on letterhead stationery, mailed promptly, creates a pleas- 
ant impression on the man who has written to inquire the price 
of a setting of eggs or a trio of chickens. 

''Suppose I delayed a week and wrote the reply with pen and 
ink, or, worse, with a pencil on ruled tablet paper. I 'd stand a 
good chance of losing a customer, would n't I.^ If I did n't miss 
an order outright, I should certainly leave a suggestion of ineffi- 
ciency and carelessness which could only be charged to the debit 
side of the business." 

She has found that a S50 typewriter and a letter file have 
helped greatly to create the good-will which is as essential to the 
farmer business woman as to the woman who runs a millinery 
shop or an insurance office. 

Mrs. Tupper has encouraged automobile trade. Her apiary 
is within sight of the road, and a "Honey for Sale" sign brings 
many a customer. Many of her city patrons have the habit of 
driving to the farm and returning with a hamper laden with eggs, 
honey, butter, or canned stuff from the vegetable garden. The 
garden last summer supplied material for more than 900 cans of 
vegetables. 

The neighbors smile at her zeal for fairs and poultry shows. 

"It is n't fun altogether; it's business," she tells them. 

It was cold, disagreeable work, for instance, to prepare an ex- 
hibit for the Heart of America Poultry Show at Kansas City last 
fall; but Mrs. Tupper felt repaid. She won first prize on hen, 
first and second on pullet, and fourth on cockerel. Then she 
exhibited at the St. Joseph, Missouri, Poultry Show with even 
better success. 

"These prizes will add to the value of every chicken I have, and 
to all my poultry products. They give me another advertising 
point," she said. 

"The shows gave me a fine opportunity to meet possible cus- 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 85 

tomers and to make friends for my business. I was on the job for 
days. I met scores of people and distributed hundreds of cards. I 
learned a lot, too, in talks with judges and experienced breeders." 

The Tupper bungalow is neat and attractive. In spite of her 
duties in the poultry house and apiary, Mrs. Tupper serves appe- 
tizing meals. She finds time for church work and neighborhood 
calls, and gives every Thursday to the Red Cross. 

The housework is speeded up with such conveniences as hot 
and cold water in kitchen and bathroom, and steam heat. The 
kitchen is an efficient little workshop lined by cupboards 
and shelves. Mrs. Tupper can sit before her kitchen cabinet 
and prepare a meal without moving about for ingredients and 
utensils. A service wagon saves steps between kitchen and 
dining-room. 

The floors of the bungalow are of hard wood. They are waxed 
a few times each year, and a little work each morning with dust 
mop and carpet sweeper keeps them in good order. The washing 
is sent out. 

"I could n't earn an income from the farm if I had a farm- 
house without modern improvements," Mrs. Tupper declared. 
"Reducing drudgery to a minimum is only plain business sense. 
Laundry work, scrubbing, and dishwashing have a low economic 
value. Such unskilled labor eats up the time and strength one 
needs for the more profitable and interesting tasks of farm man- 
agement, accounting and correspondence, advertising and mar- 
keting." 

The Personality Sketch. We all like to read about 
prominent and successful people. We want to know more 
about the men and women who figure in the day's news, 
and even about interesting persons whose success has not 
been great enough to be heralded in the press. What ap- 
peals to us most about these individuals is, not mere bio- 
graphical facts such as appear in Who's Who, but the 
more intimate details of character and personality that 
give us the key to their success. We want to see them as 
living men and women. It is the writer's problem to pre- 
sent them so vividly that we shall feel as if we had 
actually met them face to face. 

The purpose of the personality sketch may be (1) to give 
interesting information concerning either prominent or 



86 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

little known persons, (2) to furnish readers inspiration that 
may bear fruit in their own lives, (3) to give practical guid- 
ance by showing how one individual has accomplished 
a certain thing. Whether the aim is to afford food for 
thought, inspiration to action, or guidance in practical 
matters, the treatment is essentially the same. 

The recognized methods of describing characters in fic- 
tion may be used to advantage in portraying real persons. 
These are (1) using general descriptive terms, (2) describing 
personal appearance, (3) telling of characteristic actions, 
(4) quoting their words, (5) giving biographical facts, (6) 
citing opinions of others about them, (7) showing how 
others react to them. By a 'judicious combination of sev- 
eral of these methods, a writer can make his readers visual- 
ize the person, hear him speak, watch him in characteristic 
actions, and understand his past life, as well as reahze what 
others think of him and how they act toward him. 

Material for a personality sketch may be obtained in one 
of three ways: (1) from a more or less intimate acquaint- 
ance with the person to be described; (2) from an interview 
with the person, supplemented by conversation with others 
about him; (3) from printed sketches of him combined with 
information secured from others. It is easier to write per- 
sonality sketches about men and women whom we know 
well than it is about those whom we have never met, or with 
whom we have had only a short interview. Inexperienced 
writers should not attempt to prepare sketches of persons 
whom they know but shghtly. In a single interview a 
writer who is observant, and who is a keen judge of human 
nature, may be able to get an impression sufficiently strong 
to serve as the basis of a satisfactory article, especially if 
the material obtained in the interview is supplemented by 
printed sketches and by conversations with others. Per- 
sonahty sketches sometimes include long interviews giving 
the person's opinions on the subject on which he is an au- 
thority. In such articles the sketch usually precedes the 
interview. 

Examples of the Personality Sketch. The first of the fol- 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 87 

lowing sketches appeared, with a half-tone portrait, in the 
department of ''Interesting People" in the American Mag- 
azine; the second was sent out by the Newspaper Enter- 
prise Association, Cleveland, Ohio, which suppHes several 
hundred daily newspapers with special features. 

(1) 
"Tommy " — Who Enjoys Straightening Out Things 

By SAMPSON RAPHAELSON 

Six years ago a young Bulgarian immigrant, dreamy-eyed 
and shabby, came to the University of Illinois seeking an edu- 
cation. He inquired his way of a group of underclassmen and 
they pointed out to him a large red building on the campus. 

*'Go there, ^' they said gayly, "and ask for Tommy." 

He did, and when he was admitted to the presence of Thomas 
Arkle Clark, Dean of Men, and addressed him in his broken Eng- 
lish as "Mis-terr Tommy," the dean did not smile. Although 
Mr. Clark had just finished persuading an irascible father to allow 
his reprobate sophomore son to stay at college, and although he 
was facing the problem of advising an impetuous senior how to 
break an engagement with a girl he no longer loved, he adapted 
himself to the needs and the temperament of the foreigner in- 
stantly, sympathetically, and efficiently. 

In five minutes the Bulgarian had a job, knew what courses in 
English he ought to take, and was filled with a glow of hope, in- 
spiration, and security which only a genius in the art of gracious- 
ness and understanding like "Tommy Arkle," as he is amiably 
called by every student and alumnus of Illinois, can bestow. 

This is a typical incident in the extremely busy, richly human 
daily routine of the man who created the office of Dean of Men 
in American universities. Slender, short, well-dressed, his gray 
hair smartly parted, with kindly, clever, humorous blue eyes and 
a smile that is an ecstasy of friendliness, "Tommy" sits behind 
his big desk in the Administration Building from eight to five 
every day and handles all of the very real troubles and prob- 
lems of the four thousand-odd men students at the University of 
Illinois. 

He averages one hundred callers a day, in addition to answer- 
ing a heavy mail and attendance upon various committee, board, 



88 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

and council meetings. He is' known all over the country as an 
authority on fraternities and their influence, and a power for mak- 
ing that influence constantly better and finer. In business, 
farmer, and school circles in the Middle West Mr. Clark is famous 
for his whimsical, inspiring speeches. His quick, shaft-like hu- 
mor, his keen, devastating sarcasm, and his rare, resihent sympa- 
thy have made him a personaUty beloved particularly by young 
persons. 

They still tell the story on the campus of an ingenuous 
youngster who walked into the dean's office one fall, set his suit- 
case on the floor, and drawing two one-dollar bills and a fifty- 
cent piece from his pocket, laid the money on the big desk, saying: 

"That's all the money I have. I've come to work my way 
through. Will you help me to get a job? " 

In a flash "Tommy" noted the boy's eager, imaginative brown 
eyes, his wide, compact lips and strong jaw. Reaching over, he 
took the two bills and pocketed them, leaving the half-dollar. 

"The traditional great men," said the dean, "started their 
university careers with only fifty cents. I don't want you to be 
handicapped, so I '11 keep this two dollars. You can get work 

at Green Street waiting on table for your meals, and the 

landlady at Chahners Street wants a student to fire her 

furnace in exchange for room rent." 

The boy earned his way successfully for several months. Then 
suddenly he was taken sick. An operation was necessary. Mr. 
Clark wired for a Chicago specialist and paid all expenses out 
of his own pocket. The student recovered, and two years after 
he was graduated sent "Tommy" a letter enclosing a check for 
five hundred dollars. "To redeem my two dollars which you 
have in trust," the letter said, "and please use the money as 
a medical fund for sick students who need, but cannot afford, 
Chicago specialists." 

The dean has an abnormal memory for names and faces. Every 
year he makes a "rogues' gallery" — the photographs of all in- 
coming freshmen are taken and filed away. And many an hum- 
ble, unknown freshman has been exalted by the "Hello, Darby," 
or "Good morning, Boschenstein" — or whatever his name hap- 
pened to be — with which the dean greeted him. 

Mr. Clark once revealed to me the secret of his life. Fifteen 
years ago he was professor of English and had strong literary am- 
bitions, with no httle promise. There came the offer of the office 
of Dean of Men. He had to choose between writing about peo- 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 89 

pie's lives or living those lives with people. And he chose, with 
the result that at all times of the day and night it's ''Tommy 
this, and Tommy that"; an accident case may need hun at two 
A.M. in the hospital, or a crowd of roystering students may neces- 
sitate his missing a night's sleep in order to argue an irate sher- 
iff into the conviction that they are not robbers and murderers. 
He has been known to spend many evenings in the rooms of lone- 
some students who " need a friend." 

"Tommy Arkle" is one of the Middle West's finest contribu- 
tions to the modern ideal of human service. 

(2) 

Two New Machine Guns are Invented for the U.S. 
Army by the "Edison of Firearms" 

By harry B. HUNT 



Hartford, Conn., Nov. 12. — "Well, Old J. M. has done it 

again." 

That is the chief topic of conversation these days in the big 
shops of Hartford, New Haven and Bridgeport, where the bulk of 
the rifles, pistols and machine guns for Uncle Sam's army is being 
turned out. 

For in these towns to say that "Old J. M. has done it again" 
is the simplest and most direct way of stating that John M. 
Browning has invented a new kind of firearm. 

This time, however, "Old J. M." has done it twice. He has 
invented not one, but two new guns. Both have been accepted 
by the United States government, contracts for immense num- 
bers of each have been signed, and work of production is being 
pushed night and day. The new weapons will be put into the 
field against Germany at the earliest possible day. 

Who is John Browning .?* You never heard of him? 

Well, Browning is the father of rapid-fire and automatic fire- 
arms. His is the brain behind practically every basic small fire- 
arm invention in the past 40 years. He has been to the develop- 
ment of firearms what Edison has been to electricity. 

"Unquestionably the greatest inventor of firearms in the 
world," is the unanimous verdict of the gun experts of the Colt, 
Remington and Winchester plants, whose business it is to study 
and criticise every development in firearms. 

But if Browning is our greatest gun inventor, he is the most 



90 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES } 

" gun-shy " genius in the country when it comes to publicity. He 
would rather face a machine gun than a reporter. 

A few years ago a paper in his home state — Utah — pub- 
lished a little story about his success as an inventor, and the story 
was copied by the Hartford Courant. 

"I'd rather have paid $1,000 cash than have had that stuff 
printed," Browning says. 

Friends, however, who beheve that the world should know 
something about this firearms wizard, furnish the following side- 
lights on his career: / 

Browning comes from an old-stock Mormon family of Ogden, 
Utah. As a young man he was a great hunter, going off into the 
woods for a month or six weeks at a time, with only his gun for 
company. He was only 24 when he worked out his ideas for a 
gun carrying a magazine full of cartridges, which could be fired 
rapidly in succession. He pounded out the parts for his first 
rapid-fire gun with hammer and cold chisel. 

Since that time, pump and "trombone" shotguns, automatic 
pistols, rapid-fire rifles produced by the biggest firearms manu- 
facturers in the country have been Browning's products. 

The United States army pistol is a Browning invention. 

A Browning pistol manufactm-ed by the Fabrique Nationale 
of Belgium was made the standard equipment for the armies of 
Belgium, Russia, Spain, Italy and Serbia. 

On completion of the one-miUionth pistol by the Fabrique Na- 
tionale, King Albert of Belgium knighted the modest inventor, so 
he is now, officially, "Sir" John Browning. 

Browning is tall, slender, slightly stooped, 62, bald except for 
a rim of gray hair, and wears a closely clipped gray moustache. 
His face is marked by a network of fine lines. 

Although Browning will not talk of himself or of his career as an 
inventor, he can't help talking when the conversation is turned on 
guns. 

"I always think of a gun as something that is made primarily 
to shoot," he says. "The best gun is the simplest gun. When 
you begin loading a gun up with a lot of fancy contraptions and 
'safety devices,' you are only inviting trouble. You complicate 
the mechanism and make that many more places for dirt and 
grit to clog the action. 

"You can make a gun so 'safe' that it won't shoot." 

Of Browning's new guns it is not, of course, permissible to give 
any details. One, however, is a light rapid-fire gun, weighing only 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 91 

15 pounds, which can be fired from the shoulder like the or- 
dinary rifle. Each magazine carries 20 rounds and the empty 
magazine can be detached and another substituted by pressing 
a button. 

The heavier gun is a belt-fed machine, capable of firing 600 
shots a minute. Although it is water-cooled, it weighs, water 
jacket and all, only 28 pounds. For airplane work, where the 
firing is in bursts and the speed of the machine helps cool the 
gun, the jacket is discarded and the gun weighs only 20 pounds. 

Both guns are counted upon as valuable additions to the equip- 
ment of our overseas forces. 

The Narrative in the Third Person. Although the in- 
terview, the personal experience article, and the confession 
story are largely narrative, they are always told in the 
first person, whereas the term ''narrative article' ' as used in 
this classification is applied only to a narrative in the third 
person. In this respect it is more like the short story. As 
in the short story so in the narrative article, description of 
persons, places, and objects involved serves to heighten the 
effect. 

Narrative methods may be employed to present any 
group of facts that can be arranged in chronological order. 
A process, for example, may be explained by showing a man 
or a number of men engaged in the work involved, and by 
giving each step in the process as though it were an incident 
in a story. The story of an invention or a discovery may 
be told from the inception of the idea to its realization. A 
political situation may be explained by relating the events 
that led up to it. The workings of some institution, such 
as an employment office or a juvenile court, may be made 
clear by telling just what takes place in it on a typical 
occasion. Historical and biographical material can best be 
presented in narrative form. 

Suspense, rapid action, exciting adventure, vivid descrip- 
tion, conversation, and all the other devices of the short 
story may be introduced into narrative articles to increase 
the interest and strengthen the impression. Whenever, 
therefore, material can be given a narrative form it is very 



92 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

desirable to do so. A writer, however, must guard against 
exaggeration and the use of fictitious details. 

Examples of the Narrative Article. How narration with 
descriptive touches and conversation may be effectively 
used to explain a new institution like the community 
kitchen, or the methods of recruiting employed in the 
army, is shown in the two articles below. The first was 
taken from the New York Worlds and the second from the 
Outlook, 

(1) 
NOW THE PUBLIC KITCHEN 

By MARIE COOLIDGE RASK 
The Community Kitchen Menu 

\ Vegetable soup pint, 3j^ '. 

I Beef stew half pint, 4^ '. 

\ Baked beans half pint, 3^ ! 

\ Two frankfurters, one potato and cup full of I 

\ boiled cabbage all for 7^ ! 

: Rice pudding, 3^. Stewed peaches 3^ \ 

: Coffee or cocoa with milk half pint, 3^ ! 



" My mother wants three cents' worth of vegetable soup." 
"And mine wants enough beef stew for three of us." 
Two battered tin pails were handed up by small, grimy fingers. 
Two eager little faces were upturned toward the top of the bright 
green counter which loomed before them. Two pairs of roguish 
eyes smiled back at the woman who reached over the counter 
and took the pails. 

"The beef stew will be twelve cents," she said. "It is four 
cents for each half pint, you know." 

"I know," answered the youth. "My mother says when she 
has to buy the meat and all and cook it and put a quarter in the 
gas meter, it's cheaper to get it here. My father got his break- 
fast here, too, and it only cost him five cents." 

"And was he pleased?" asked the woman, carefully lowering 
the filled pail to the outstretched little hand. 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 93 

"You bet," chuckled the lad, as he turned and followed the 
little procession down the length of the room and out through 
the door on the opposite side. 

The woman was Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, jr. 

The boy was the son of a 'longshoreman living on "Death 
Avenue,'' in close proximity to the newly established People's 
Kitchen, situated on the southeast corner of Tenth Avenue and 
West Twenty-seventh Street, New York. 

So it is here at last — the much talked of, long hoped for, com- 
munity kitchen. 

Within three days after its doors had been opened to the pub- 
lic more than 1,100 persons had availed themselves of its benefits. 
Within three years, it is promised, the community kitchen will 
have become national in character. Its possibilities for develop- 
ment are limitless. 

Way was blazed for the pioneer kitchen by Edward F. Brown, 
executive secretary of the New York school lunch committee. 

The active power behind the cauldrons of soup, cabbage and 
frankfurters, beans and rice pudding is vested in Mrs. James A, 
Burden, jr., and Mrs. WiUiam K. Vanderbilt, jr. 

The evolution of the community kitchen is going to be of in- 
terest to every housewife and to every wage earner in all classes 
of society. 

First of all, let it be distinctly understood that the kitchen as 
inaugurated is not a charity. It is social and philanthropic in 
character, and it will ultimately reduce the cost of living by al- 
most 50 per cent. This much has been demonstrated already to 
the extent that the Tenth Avenue kitchen has not only paid ex- 
penses, but has so overrun its confines that plans are in prepara- 
tion for the establishment of other and larger kitchens in rapid 
succession. 

The object is to give to the purchaser the maximum quantity 
of highest grade food, properly cooked, at minimum cost. This 
cost includes rent, light, heat, power, interest on investment, de- 
preciation, cost of food materials, labor and supervision. The 
principle is that of barter and sale on an equitable business basis. 

The project as now formulated is to establish for immediate 
use a small group of public kitchens having one central depot. 
This depot will be in constant operation throughout the twenty- 
four hours. Here the food will be prepared and distributed to the 
smaller kitchens where, by means of steam tables, it can be kept 
hot and dispensed. The character of the food to be supplied each 



94 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

district will be chosen with regard to what the population is ao- 
customed to, that which is simple and wholesome, which contains 
bulk, can be prepared at minimum cost, can be conveniently dis- 
pensed and easily carried away. 

Opposite a large school building, in a small room that had been 
at one time a saloon, the kitchen of the century was fitted up and 
formally opened to the public. 

Three long green tables with green painted benches beside 
them encircle the room on two sides. Their use was manifest the 
second day after the kitchen was opened. 

At 4 o'clock in the morning, from various tenement homes 
near by, sturdy 'longshoremen and laborers might have been seen 
plodding silently from their respective homes, careful not to dis- 
turb their wives and famihes, and heading straight for the new 
kitchen on the corner. From trains running along "Death Ave- 
nue" came blackened trainmen after their night's work. They, 
too, stopped at the corner kitchen. By the time the attendant 
arrived to imlock the doors forty men were in line waiting for 
breakfast. 

Ten minutes later the three tables were fully occupied. 

"Bread, cereal and coffee for five cents!" exclaimed one of the 
men, pushing the empty tray from him, after draining the last 
drop of coffee in his mug. "This kitchen's all right." 

Noon came. The children from the school building trooped in, 

"My mamma works in a factory," said one. "I used to get 
some cakes at a bakery at noontime. Gee! There 's raisins in 
this rice puddin', ain't there.'^" He carried the saucerfulof pud- 
ding over to the table. "Only three cents," he whispered to the 
little gu-l beside him. "Youbetter get some, too. That'll leave 
you two cents for a cup of cocoa." 

"Ain't it a cinch!" exclaimed the little girl.' 

Behind the counter the women who had made these things pos- 
sible smiled happily and dished out pudding, beans and soup with 
generous impartiality. The daughter of Mrs. Vanderbilt ap- 
peared. 

"I'm hungry, mother," she cried. "I'll pay for my lunch." 

"You'll have to serve j^ourself," was the rejoinder of the busy 
woman with the tin pail in her hand. "There's a tray at the 
end of the counter — but don't get in the way." 

So rich and poor lunched together. 

"Oh, but I'm tired!" exclaimed a woman, who, satchel in 
hand, entered, late in the afternoon, i'lt'a hard, to go home 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 95 

and cook^after canvassing all day. Will you mind if I eat sup- 
per here?" 

Then the women and children poured in with pails and dishes 
and pans. 

"We're getting used to it now," said one. "It's just like a 
store, you know, and it saves us a lot of work — " 

"And expense! My land! " cried another. "Why, my man 
has only been working half time, and the pennies count when 
you 've got children to feed and clothe. When I go to work by 
the day it 's little that 's cooked at home. Now—" She pre- 
sented a dish as the Une moved along. "Beef stew for four," she 
ordered, "and coffee in this pitcher, here." 

(2) 
GATHERING IN THE RAW RECRUIT 

By KINGSLEY MOSES 



Men Wanted for the United States Army [ 



A TALL, gaunt farmer boy with a very dirty face and huge 
gnarled hands stood open-mouthed before the brilliant poster dis- 
played before the small-town recruiting office. In his rather dull 
mind he pictured himself as he would look, straight and dignified, 
in the khaki uniform, perhaps even with the three stripes of the 
sergeant on his arm. 

"Fifteen dollars a month," he thought to himself, "and board 
and clothes and lodgings and doctor's bills. Why, that 's more 
than I'm gettin' now on the farm! I'd see the world; I might 
even get to learn a regular trade." He scratched his chin thought- 
fully. "Well, I ain't gettin' nowhere now, that 's sure," he con- 
cluded, and slowly climbed the stairs. 

This boy had not come to his decision in a moment. His un- 
trained but thoroughly honest mind worked slowly. He had 
been pondering the opportunities of army life for many weeks. 
The idea had come to him by chance, he thought. 

Over a month ago he had been plowing the lower forty of Old 
Man Huggins's farm. The road to the mountains lay along one 
side of the field, and as the boy turned and started to plow his 
furrow toward the road he noticed that a motor cycle had stopped 
just beyond the fence. "Broke down," the boy commented to 



96 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

himself, as he saw the tan-clad rider dismounting. Over the 
mule's huge back he watched as he drew nearer. **Why, the 
rider was in uniform; he must be a soldier! " 

Sure enough, when the fence was reached the boy saw that the 
stranger was dressed in the regulation khaki of Uncle Sam, with 
the U.S. in block letters at the vent of the collar and two stripes 
on the left sleeve. 

"Broke down?" the boy queried, dropping his plow-handles. 

The corporal grunted and continued to potter with the ma- 
chine. 

"You in the army.^'' the boy continued, leaning on the fence. 

"You bet!" assented the soldier. Then, looking up and taking 
in the big, raw-boned physique of the youngster, "Ever think of 
joinin' ? " 

"Can't say's I did." 

"Got any friends in the army?" 

"Nope." 

"Fine life." The motor cycle was attracting httle of the re- 
cruiting officer's attention now, for he was a recruiting officer, 
and engaged in one of the most practical phases of his work. 

"Them soldiers have a pretty easy life, don't they?" Evi- 
dently the boy was becoming interested. 

The recruiting officer laid down his tools, pulled out a pipe, and 
sat down comfortably under a small sycamore tree at the road- 
side. 

"Not so very easy," he replied, "but interesting and exciting." 
He paused for a minute to scrutinize the prospective recruit more 
closely. To his experienced eye the boy appeared desirable. 
Slouchy, dirty, and lazy-looking, perhaps; but there were never- 
theless good muscles and a strong body under those ragged over- 
alls. The corporal launched into his story. 

For twenty minutes the boy listened open-mouthed to the sto- 
ries of post life, where baseball, football, and boxing divided the 
time with drilling; of mess-halls where a fellow could eat all he 
wanted to, free; of good-fellowship and fraternal pride in the 
organization; of the pleasant evenings in the amusement rooms 
in quarters. And then of the life of the big world, of which the 
boy had only dreamed; of the Western plains, of Texas, the snowy 
ridges of the great Rockies, New York, Chicago, San Francisco, 
the Philippines, Hawaii, the strange glamour of the tropics, the 
great wildernesses of the frozen North. 

!' It seems 'most like as I 'd like to join," was the timid venture. 



TYPES OF ARTICLES 97 

"What's your name?" 

*' Steve Bishop." 

"All right, Steve, come in and see me the next time you're in 
town," said the corporal, rising. "We'll talk it over." 

And, mounting his motor cycle, he was gone down the road in a 
whirl of red dust. Nor did the farmer boy think to wonder at the 
sudden recovery of the apparently stalled machine. 

"Missionary work," explains the corporal. "We never beg 
'em to join; but we do sort of give 'em the idea. Like joinin' the 
Masons, you know," he winked, giving me the grip. 

So it happened that Steve Bishop mounted the stairs that day, 
resolved to join the army if they would take him. 

In the small, bare, but immaculately clean room at the head of 
the stairs he found his friend the corporal banging away at a type- 
writer. *How are you, Steve? Glad to see you," was the wel- 
come. "Sit down a minute, and we'll talk." 

The soldier finished his page, lit his pipe again, and leisurely 
swung round in his chair. 

"Think you'll hke to soldier with us?" he said. 

Unconsciously the boy appreciated the compliment; it was 
flattering to be considered on a basis of equality with this clean- 
cut, rugged man of the wide world. 

" I reckon so, " he repHed, almost timidly. 

"Well, how old are you, Steve?" 

"Twenty-one." The corporal nodded approval. That was 
all right, then; no tedious formahty of securing signed permission 
from parent or guardian was necessary. 

Then began a string of personal questions as to previous em- 
ployment, education, details of physical condition, moral record 
(for the army will have no ex-jailbirds), etc., and finally the 
question, "Why do you want to join?" 

"They don't know why I ask that," says the corporal, "but I 
have a mighty good reason. From the way a boy answers I can 
decide which branch of the service he ought to be connected with. 
If he wants to be a soldier just for travel and adventure, I advise 
the infantry or the cavalry; but if he seriously wants to learn and 
study, I recommend him to the coast artillery or the engineers." 

Then comes the physical examination, a vigorous but not ex- 
acting course of sprouts designed to find out if the applicant is 
capable of violent exertion and to discover any minor weaknesses; 
an examination of eyes, ears, teeth, and nose; and, finally, a cur- 
sory scrutiny for functional disorders. ^— " 



98 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

" I '11 take you, Steve/' the corporal finally says. " In about a 
week we'll send you to the barracks." 

" But what am I goin' to do till then? I ain't got a cent." 

"Don't worry about that. You'll eat and sleep at Mrs. Bar- 
rows's," — naming a good, clean boarding-house in the town, the 
owner of which has a yearly contract with the Government to take 
care of just such embryo recruits; "in the daytime you can hang 
around town, and the police won't bother you if you behave your- 
self. If they call you for loafin' tell them you're waitin' to get 
into the army." 

In a week the district recruiting officer, a young lieutenant, 
drops in on his regular circuit. The men who have been accepted 
by the non-commissioned officer are put through their paces 
again, and so expert is the corporal in judging good material that 
none of Steve's group of eight are rejected. 

"All right," says the corporal when the lieutenant has gone; 
"here's your tickets to the training station at Columbus, Ohio, 
and twenty-eight cents apiece for coffee on the way. In these 
boxes you'll find four big, healthy lunches for each one of you. 
That'll keep you until you get to Columbus." 

One of the new recruits is given charge of the form ticket issued 
by the railway expressly for the Government; is told that when 
meal-time comes he can get off the train with the others and for 
fifty cents buy a big pail of hot coffee for the bunch at the station 
lunch-room. Then the corporal takes them all down to the train, 
tells them briefly but plainly what is expected in the way of con- 
duct from a soldier, and winds up with the admonition: "And, 
boys, remember this first of all; the first duty of a soldier is this: 
do what you're told to do, do it without question, and do it quick. 
Good-bye." 

In twenty-four hours Steve and his companions are at the train- 
ing station, have taken the oath of allegiance, and are safely and 
well on their way to full membership in the family of Uncle Sam. 



CHAPTER VI 
WRITING THE ARTICLE 

Value of a Plan. Just as a builder would hesitate to 
erect a house without a carefully worked-out plan, so a 
writer should be loath to begin an article before he has out- 
lined it fully. In planning a building, an architect consid- 
ers how large a house his client desires, how many rooms 
he must provide, how the space available may best be ap- 
portioned among the rooms, and what relation the rooms 
are to bear to one another. In outlining an article, like- 
wise, a writer needs to determine how long it must be, 
what material it should include, how much space should 
be devoted to each part, and how the parts should be ar- 
ranged. Time spent in thus planning an article is time well 
spent. 

OutHning the subject fully involves thinking out the ar- 
ticle from beginning to end. The value of each item of the 
material gathered must be carefully weighed; its relation to 
the whole subject and to every part must be considered. 
The arrangement of the parts is of even greater importance, 
because much of the effectiveness of the presentation will 
depend upon a logical development of the thought. In the 
last analysis, good writing means clear thinking, and at 
no stage in the preparation of an article is clear thinking 
more necessary than in the planning of it. 

Amateurs sometimes insist that it is easier to write with- 
out an outline than with one. It undoubtedly does take less 
time to dash off a special feature story than it does to think 
out all of the details and then write it. In nine cases out 
of ten, however, when a writer attempts to work out an ar- 
ticle as he goes along, trusting that his ideas will arrange 
themselves, the result is far from a clear, logical, well-organ- 
ized presentation of his subject. The common disinclina- 
tion to make an outUne is usually based on the difficulty 



100 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

that most persons experience in deliberately thinking about 
a subject in all its various aspects, and in getting down in 
logical order the results of such thought. Unwillingness to 
outline a subject generally means unwillingness to think. 

The Length of an Article. The length of an article is de- 
termined by two considerations: the scope of the subject, 
and the policy of the pubUcation for which it is intended. 
A large subject cannot be adequately treated in a brief 
space, nor can an important theme be disposed of satisfac- 
torily in a few hundred words. The length of an article, 
in general, should be proportionate to the size and the im- 
portance of the subject. 

The deciding factor, however, in fixing the length of an 
article is the policy of the periodical for which it is designed. 
One popular pubHcation may print articles from 4000 to 
6000 words, while another fixes the limit at 1000 words. It 
would be quite as bad judgment to prepare a 1000-word ar- 
ticle for the former, as it would be to send one of 5000 words 
to the latter. Periodicals also fix certain limits for articles 
to be printed in particular departments. One monthly 
magazine, for instance, has a department of personaHty 
sketches which range from 800 to 1200 words in length, 
while the other articles in this periodical contain from 2000 
to 4000 words. 

The practice of printing a column or two of reading mat- 
ter on most of the advertising pages influences the length 
of articles in many magazines. To obtain an attractive 
make-up, the editors allow only a page or two of each spe- 
cial article, short story, or serial to appear in the first part of 
the magazine, relegating the remainder to the advertising 
pages. Ai'ticles must, therefore, be long enough to fill a 
page or two in the first part of the periodical and several 
columns on the pages of advertising. Some magazines 
use short articles, or ^'fillers," to furnish the necessary read- 
ing matter on these advertising pages. 

Newspapers of the usual size, with from 1000 to 1200 
words in a column, have greater flexibility than magazines 
in the matter of make-up, and can, therefore, use special 



WRITING THE. ARTICLE 101 

feature stories of various lengths. The arrangement of 
advertisements, even in the magazine sections, does not 
affect the length of articles. The only way to determine 
exactly the requirements of different newspapers and mag- 
azines is to count the words in typical articles in various 
departments. 

Selection and Proportion. After deciding on the length 
of his article, the writer should consider what main points 
he will be able to develop in the allotted space. His choice 
will be guided by his purpose in writing the article. ''Is 
this point essential to the accomplishment of my aim?" is 
the test he should apply. Whatever is non-essential must 
be abandoned, no matter how attractive it may be. Hav- 
ing determined upon the essential topics, he next proceeds 
to estimate their relative value for the development of his 
theme, so that he may give to each one the space and the 
prominence that are proportionate to its importance. 

Arrangement of Material. The order in which to pre- 
sent the main topics requires thoughtful study. A logical 
development of a subject by which the reader is led, step 
by step, from the first sentence to the last in the easiest and 
most natural way, is the ideal arrangement. An article 
should march right along from beginning to end, without 
digressing or marking time. The straight line, in writing as 
in drawing, is the shortest distance between two points. 

In narration the natural order is chronological. To 
arouse immediate interest, however, a writer may at times 
deviate from this order by beginning with a striking inci- 
dent and then going back to relate the events that led up to 
it. This method of beginning in medias res is a device well 
recognized in fiction. In exposition the normal order is to 
proceed from the known to the unknown, to dovetail the 
new facts into those already familiar to the reader. 

When a writer desires by his article to create certain 
convictions in the minds of his readers, he should consider 
the arrangement best calculated to lead them to form such 
conclusions. The most telling effects are produced, not 
by stating his own conclusions as strongly as possible, but 



102 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

rather by skillfully inducing his readers to reach those con- 
clusions by what they regard as their own mental processes. 
That is, if readers think that the convictions which they 
have reached are their own, and were not forced upon 
them, their interest in these ideas is likely to be much 
deeper and more lasting. It is best, therefore, to under- 
state conclusions or to omit them entirely. In all such 
cases the writer's aim in arranging his material should be 
to direct his readers' train of thought so that, after they 
have finished the last sentence, they will inevitably form 
the desired conclusion. 

With the main topics arranged in the best possible order, 
the writer selects from his available material such details 
as he needs to amplify each point. Examples, incidents, 
statistics, and other particulars he jots down under each of 
the chief heads. The arrangement of these details, in rela- 
tion both to the central purpose and to each other, requires 
some consideration, for each detail must have its logical 
place in the series. Having thus ordered his material ac- 
cording to a systematic plan, he has before him a good 
working outline to guide him in writing. 

Planning a Typical Article. The process of gathering, 
evaluating, and organizing material may best be shown 
by a concrete example. The publication in a New York 
paper of a news story to the effect that the first commence- 
ment exercises were about to be held in the only factory 
school ever conducted in the city, suggested to a special 
feature writer the possibility of preparing an article on the 
work of the school. To obtain the necessary material, he 
decided to attend the exercises and to interview both the 
principal of the school and the head of the factory. In 
thinking over the subject beforehand, he jotted down 
these points upon which to secure data: (1) the origin and 
the purpose of the school; (2) its relation to the work of the 
factory; (3) the methods of instruction; (4) the kind of 
pupils and the results accomplished for them; (5) the cost 
of the school; (6) its relation to the public school system. 
At the close of the graduation exercises, he secured the de- 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 103 

sired interviews with the teacher in charge and with the 
head of the firm, copied typical examples from the exhibi- 
tion of the pupils' written work, and jotted down notes on 
the decoration and furnishing of the schoolroom. Since 
the commencement exercises had been reported in the 
newspapers, he decided to refer to them only incidentally 
in his story. 

After considering the significance of the work of the 
school and what there was about it that would appeal to 
different classes of readers, he decided to write his story 
for the magazine section of the New York newspaper 
that he believed was most generally read by business men 
who operated factories similar to the one described. His 
purpose he formulated thus: '' I intend to show how illiter- 
ate immigrant girls can be transformed quickly into intel- 
ligent, efficient American citizens by means of instruction 
in a factory school; this I wish to do by explaining what 
has been accomplished in this direction by one New York 
factory." He hoped that his article would lead readers to 
encourage the establishment of similar schools as a means 
of Americanizing alien girls. The expository type of arti- 
cle containing concrete examples, description, and inter- 
views he concluded to adopt as the form best suited to his 
subject. 

The average length of the special feature stories, in the 
magazine section of the paper to which he intended to sub- 
mit the article, proved to be about 2000 words. In order 
to accomplish his purpose in an article of this length, he 
selected five main topics to develop: (1) the reasons that 
led the firm to estabhsh the school; (2) the results ob- 
tained; (3) the methods of instruction; (4) the cost of the 
school; (5) the schoolroom and its equipment. 

" What part of my material will make the strongest 
appeal to the readers of this newspaper? " was the ques- 
tion he asked himself, in order to select the best point with 
which to begin his article. The feature that would attract 
the most attention, he believed, was the striking results 
obtained by the school in a comparatively short time. 



104 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

In reviewing the several types of beginnings to deter- 
mine which would best suit the presentation of these re- 
markable results, he found two possibilities : first, the sum- 
mary lead with a striking statement for the first sentence ; 
and second, a concrete example of the results as shown by 
one of the pupils. He found, however, that he did not 
have sufficient data concerning any one girl to enable him 
to tell the story of her transformation as an effective con- 
crete case. He determined, therefore, to use a striking 
statement as the feature of a summary lead. 

From his interview with the head of the firm, and from 
a formal statement of the purpose of the school printed 
on the commencement program, he obtained the reasons 
why the school had been estabUshed. These he decided to 
give verbatim in direct quotation form. 

To show most interestingly the results of the teaching, 
he picked out four of the six written exercises that he had 
copied from those exhibited on the walls of the school- 
room. The first of these dealt with American history, the 
second with thrift and business methods, and the third 
with personal hygiene. For the fourth he selected the work 
of a woman of forty whose struggles to get into the school 
and to learn to write the teacher had described to him. 

Figures on the cost of the school he had secured from the 
head of the firm according to his preliminary plan. These 
covered the expense both to the employers and to the city. 

His description of the schoolroom he could base on his 
own observation, supplemented by the teacher's explana- 
tions. 

For his conclusion he determined to summarize the re- 
sults of this experiment in education as the firm stated 
them on the commencement program, and to give his 
own impression of the success of the school. Thus he 
sought to give final reinforcement to the favorable impres- 
sion of the school that he wished his article to create, with 
the aim of leading readers to reach the conclusion that 
such schools should be encouraged as invaluable aids to 
the Americanization of aHen girls. 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 105 

Outlining the Article. Having selected the main topics 
and having decided in a general way how he intended to 
develop each one, he then fixed upon the best order in 
which to present them. 

After his introduction giving the striking results of the 
school in a summary lead, it seemed logical to explain the 
firm's purpose in undertaking this unusual enterprise. 
He accordingly jotted down for his second topic, " Pur- 
pose in establishing the school," with the two sub-topics, 
*' Firm's statement on program " and " Head of firm's 
statement in interview." 

The methods of instruction by which the remarkable 
success was attained, impressed him as the next important 
point. His readers, having learned the results and the 
purpose of the school, would naturally want to know by 
what methods these girls had been transformed in so 
short a time. As his third topic, therefore, he put down, 
*' Methods of instruction." 

For his fourth division he had to choose between (1) the 
results as shown by the pupils' written work, (2) the cost 
of the school, and (3) the schoolroom and its equipment. 
From the point of view of logical order either the results or 
the schoolroom might have been taken up next, but, as all 
the explanations of the methods of instruction were quoted 
directly in the words of the teacher, and as the pupils' ex- 
ercises were to be given verbatim, he thought it best to 
place his own description of the schoolroom between these 
two quoted parts. Greater variety, he foresaw, would re- 
sult from such an arrangement. " The schoolroom," 
then, became the fourth topic. 

Since the pupils' work which he planned to reproduce 
had been exhibited on the walls of the schoolroom, the 
transition from the description of the room to the exhibits 
on the walls was an easy and logical one. 

By this process of elimination, the cost of the school be- 
came the sixth division, to be followed by the summary 
conclusion. 

He then proceeded to fill in the details needed to develop 



106 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

each of these main topics, always keeping his general pur- 
pose in mind. The result of this organization of material 
was the following outHne: 

I. Summary lead 

1. Striking results — time required 

2. Commencement — when and where held 

3. Graduates — number, nationality, certificates 

4. School — when and where established 

5. Example to other firms 

II. Purpose of school 

1. Firm's statement on commencement program 

2. Head of firm's statement in interview 

III. Methods of instruction 

1. Practical education 

2. Letter writing — geography, postal regulations, cor- 
respondence 

3. Arithmetic — money, expense accounts, reports of 
work 

4. Civics — history, biography, hohdays, citizenship, 
patriotism 

5. Personal hygiene — deanhness, physical culture, first 

aid, food 

6. Cotton goods — growing cotton, spinning, shipping 

7. Means of communication — telephone, directory, 
map of city, routes of travel, telephone book 

8. Study outside of classroom 

IV. The schoolroom 

1. Location — floor space, windows 

2. Decorations — flowers, motto, photograph of Miss 
Jessie Wilson 

3. Furnishings — piano, phonograph 

4. Library — reading to the girls. The Promised Land, 
Mary Antin, Ubrary cards 

V. Results shown by pupils' work 

1. Italian's theme and her remarkable progress 

2. Russian's essay on saving 

3. Polish girl's exercise about picture 

4. Woman of forty and her work 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 107 

VI. Cost of school 

1. Expense to firm 

2. Cost to Board of Education — salaries and supplies 

3. Entire cost per pupil 

4. Returns to firm outweigh cost, says employer 

VII. Summary conclusion 

1. Results quoted from program 

2. Impression made by girls receiving diplomas 

The Completed Article. Since the establishment of a 
school in a factory was the novel feature of the enterprise, 
he worked out a title based on this idea, with a sub-title 
presenting the striking results accomplished by the school. 
The completed article follows, with a brief analysis of the 
methods used in developing the outline. 

TAKING THE SCHOOL TO THE FACTORY 

How Alien Girls are being Changed into Intelligent American 
Workers by Instruction during Working Hours 

In from twenty to thirty-five weeks I. Summary Lead 

an illiterate immigrant girl can be 1. Striking results 

transformed into an intelligent, effi- Striking statement 

eient American citizen, in this city, in two sentences to 

without interfering with the daily work avoid unwieldy sen- 

by which she earns her living. Only tence , 
forty-five minutes a day in a factory 
schoolroom is required to accomplish 
such striking results. 

This has just been demonstrated at 2. Commencement 
the first commencement of the only Timeliness brought 
school conducted in a New York fac- out immediately af- 
tory. The classes have been held on ter striking state- 
one of the upper floors of the white ment 
goods factory of D. E. Sicher & Co., 

49 West 21st Street, where the gradu- Address has local in- 

ation exercises were held last Thurs- terest 
day evening. 

Forty girls — Italians, Poles, Rus- 3. Graduates 

sians, Hungarians, Austrians among Note concrete de- 

the number — received the first *' cer- tails 
tificates of literacy" ever issued by the 



108 



SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



Board of Education. Twenty weeks 
ago many of these young women could 
not speak English; many of them had 
never been to school a day in their 
lives. Every one present on Thursday 
night felt that this was indeed a com- 
mencement for these girls. 

It is due to the instruction of Miss 
Florence Meyers, formerly a public 
school teacher, that the girls can now 
speak English, write good letters, make 
out money-orders, cash checks, and 
send telegrams. They have also been 
taught the principles of our govern- 
ment, the importance of personal hy- 
giene, and the processes by which cot- 
ton goods used in their work are manu- 
factured. 

The school was organized this year 
at the suggestion of Dudley E. Sicher, 
head of the firm, in cooperation with 
the Board of Education, and has been 
under the supervision of Miss Lizzie E. 
Rector, Public School No. 4, Manhat- 
tan. 

What has been accomplished in this 
factory, which is the largest white 
goods muslin underwear plant in the 
world, will doubtless serve as an ex- 
ample to be followed by other firms. 

Its purpose the firm expresses in 
these words: "To hasten assimilation 
necessary to national unity, to pro- 
mote industrial betterment, by reduc- 
ing the friction caused by failure to com- 
prehend directions, and to decrease the 
waste and loss of wage incidental to the 
illiterate worker." 

"When a girl understands English 
and has been taught American busi- 
ness and factory methods," says Mr. 
Sicher, "she doesn't hesitate and 
blunder; she understands what she is 
told and she does it. 

" InteUigent employees do much bet- 
ter work than illiterate ones, and since 



Striking results em- 
phasized by device 
of contrast 

Impression on audi- 
ence of remarkable 
results 

Teacher's name has 
local interest 



Additional concrete 
details of striking re- 
sults 



4. School 



Principal and school 
have local interest 

5. Example to other 
firms 

Veiled suggestion to 
readers 

II. Purpose of School 
1. Firm's statement 

Statement in gen- 
eral terms 



2. Head of firm's state- 
ment 

Statement in con- 
crete terms 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 



109 



we can afford to pay them better wages, 
they are much more contented. From 
a business point of view, the school is a 
good investment." 

The instruction that has accom- 
phshed such remarkable results has 
been eminently practical. "There 
was no time to spend in teaching the 
girls anything but the most necessary 
things," explains Miss Meyers, "for I 
could have each one of them for only 
forty-five minutes a day, and there was 
much to be done in that time. 

**Here was a girl, for example, who 
could hardly say 'good morning.' 
Here was another who had never writ- 
ten a word in her life, either in English 
or in any other language. The prob- 
lem was how to give each of them what 
she most needed in the short time al- 
lotted every day. This essentially 
practical training I organized under 
several subjects, each of which was 
broadly inclusive. 

*'When I undertook to teach letter 
writing, it meant teaching the English 
language, as well as writing and spell- 
ing. It meant teaching the geography 
of the country, the postal regulations, 
and the forms of business and personal 
correspondence. 

*'In teaching arithmetic, I use money 
and show them how to make change by 
means of addition, subtraction, and 
division. I also ask them to keep per- 
sonal expense accounts and to make 
out reports of the work that they do. 

"Civics included American history, 
the lives of our statesmen — for these 
girls are so eager to be true Americans 
that they want to know about our great 
men — the origin of legal holidays, the 
merits of our system of government, 
the meaning of citizenship, and the es- 
sence of patriotism. 

"Hygiene is another important sub- 



Ill. Methods of In- 
struction 

1. Practical educa- 
tion 

Teacher's state- 
ment of her prob- 
lem 



Problem concrete- 
ly shown 



Statement of gen- 
eral plan 



2. Letter writing^ 



3. Arithmetic 



4. Civics 



5. Personal hygiene 



110 



SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



ject. American standards of living, 
personal cleanliness, and sanitary regu- 
lations have to be emphasized. To 
aid in counteracting the effects of long 
hours at the sewing machines, we have 
physical culture exercises. Instruc- 
tion in first aid measures is also given so 
that they will know what to do in case 
of an accident. The nutritive value of 
different foods in relation to their cost 
is discussed to enable them to maintain 
their health by a proper diet. 

"As these young women are engaged 
in making muslin underwear, it seemed 
desirable for them to know where cot- 
ton grows, how it is spun, where the 
mills are and how it is shipped to New 
York. After they understand the vari- 
ous processes through which the mate- 
rial goes before it reaches them, they 
take much more interest in their work, 
as a part of the manufacture of cotton 
goods into clothing." 

The use of the telephone, the tele- 
graph, the subway, surface lines, and 
railways is another subject of instruc- 
tion. A dummy 'phone, telegraph 
blanks, the city directory, maps with 
routes of rapid transit lines, and the 
telephone book, are some of the practi- 
cal laboratory apparatus and text- 
books that are employed. 

"We encourage them to learn for 
themselves outside of school hours 
many of the necessary things that we 
have not time for in the classroom," 
says the teacher. 

To reach the schoolroom in which 
this work has been carried on, you take 
the elevator to the last floor but one of 
the factory building. There you find 
only a portion of the floor space cleared 
for tables and chairs. It is a clean, 
airy room with big windows opening 
on the street, made gay with boxes of 
flowers. 



6. Cotton goods 



7. Means of communi- 
cation 

Method of presen- 
tation in this para- 
graph changed for 
variety 



8. Study outside 
classroom 



of 



rv. The Schoolroom 
1. Location 

Note effect of using 
"you" 



WRITmG THE ARTICLE 



111 



Flags of many nations about the 
room appropriately represent the many 
nationalities among the pupils. On 
one wall hangs a card with the legend: 

Four things come not back: 

The spoken word 

The sped arrow 

The past life 

The neglected opportunity. 

A photograph of Miss Jessie Wilson, 
now Mrs. Francis B. Sayre, occupies 
the space between the two windows. 
The picture was presented to the girls^ 
by Miss Wilson herself, just before she 
was married, when a party of them with 
Miss Meyers went to Washington to 
give her a white petticoat they had 
made themselves, as a wedding present. 
After Miss Wilson had shown them 
through the White House and they had 
seen her wedding presents, she gave 
them this signed photograph. 

A piano and a phonograph at one 
end of the room make it possible for 
the girls to enjoy dancing during the 
noon hours on tlu*ee days of the wefek, 
and to have musicals on other occasions. 

Shelves filled with books line the 
walls of a smaller office room opening 
off the schoolroom. On two days of 
the week during the noon hour, the 
teacher read aloud to the girls until 
they were able to read for themselves. 
Then they were permitted to take 
books home with them. Besides this, 
they have been encouraged to use the 
public Ubraries, after being shown how 
to make out appHcations for hbrary 
cards. 

" One girl is reading * The Promised 
Land,' by Mary Antin," Miss Meyers 
tells you, "and thinks it is a wonderful 
book. She was so much interested in 
it that I asked her to tell the others 
about it. Although a little shy at 



2. Decorations 

Note character of 
decorations selected 



This shows enter- 
prising spirit on the 
part of teacher, girls, 
and firm 



3. Furnishings 



4. Library 



Concrete example 
has "human inter- 
est," as related in 
the teacher's own 
words 



112 



SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



first, she soon forgot herself in her eag- 
erness to relate Miss Antin's experi- 
ences. She told the story \\dth such 
dramatic effect that she quite carried 
away her classmates. If we had done 
no more than to teach this girl to read a 
book that meant so much to her, I be- 
lieve our school would have justified 
its existence." 

Mary Antin herself accepted the 
girls' invitation to attend the gradua- 
tion exercises, and made a short ad- 
dress. 

The pupUs' written work was exhib- 
ited on the walls of the room on the oc- 
casion of the exercises, and showed con- 
clusively the proficiency that thej^ have 
attained. 

The greatest progress made by any 
of the pupils was probably that of an 
ItaUan girl. Before coming to this 
country, she had attended school and 
besides this she had been teaching her 
father at night whatever she had 
learned during the day. Her short 
essay on her adopted country read: 

This country is the United States 
of America. It is the land of free- 
dom and liberty, because the people 
govern themselves. AU citizens love 
their country, because they know 
that this freedom was earned by men 
who gave their hves for it. The 
United States is in North America. 
North America is one of the greatest 
divisions of the earth. North Amer- 
ica was discovered on October 12, 
1492, by Christopher Columbus. 

The fact that Columbus, one of her 
countrjTnen, had discovered the coun- 
try in which she and her father had 
found a new life, doubtless appealed to 
her keen imagination. 

That a Russian girl appreciated the 
lessons she had received in the value of 



Is this paragraph 
out of logical order? 



V. Results Shown 
Pupils' Work 



BY 



1. Italian's theme and 
progress 

Example of great- 
est progress is put 
first 



Note use of narrow 
measure without 
quotation marks for 
examples quoted 



Is this comment by 
the writer effective? 



2. Russian's essay on 
saving 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 



113 



opening a dime-savings account, is in- 
dicated by this composition : 

I must save money out of my earn- 
ings to put in the bank. I know that 
money is safe in the bank. 

To deposit means to put money in 
the bank. 

Cashing a cheque means changing 
a cheque for money. 

How practical lessons in personal hy- 
giene may be emphasized in connection 
with the teaching of composition was 
illustrated in an essay of a Polish girl 
written under a picture of a woman 
combing her hair : 

She wished to comb her hair. 

She takes the comb in her hand. 

She combs her hair. 

She wishes to brush her hair. 

She takes the brush in her hand. 

She brushes her hair. 

She combs and brushes her hair 

every morning. 

She washes her hair often with 

soap and water. 
The pathetic eagerness of one woman 
of forty to learn to read and write was 
told by Miss Meyers in connection with 
one of the pieces of work exhibited. 

"She was an old woman; at least she 
seems to me to be over fifty, although 
she gave her age as only forty," ex- 
plained the teacher. "She couldn't 
read or even write her name. Despite 
her age, she begged for a long time to 
be permitted to enter the school, but 
there were so many young girls who de- 
sired to learn that they were given the 
preference. She pleaded so hard that 
finally I asked to have her admitted on 
trial." 

"It was hard work to teach her," 
continued Miss Meyers as she pointed 
to some of the woman's writing. The 
first attempts were large, irregular 



3. Polish girl's essay 



4. Woman of forty 
and her work 



"Human interest" 
appeal heightened 
by quoting teacher 
verbatim 



Progress in penman- 
ship could not be 
shown by quoting 
exercise 



114 



SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



letters that sprawled over the sheet 
like the work of a child when it begins 
to write. After twenty weeks of strug- 
gle, her work took on a form that, al- 
though still crude, was creditable for 
one who had never written until she 
was over forty. " Her joy at her suc- 
cess was great enough to repay me 
many times over for my efforts to teach 
her," remarked Miss Meyers. 

The exact cost to the firm of conduct- 
ing the school, including the wages 
paid for the time spent by the girls in 
the classroom, has been itemized by 
Mr. Sicher for the year just closed, as 
follows: 

Floor space $175.00 

Rent, light, and heat 105 .00 

Janitor 357.00 

Wages at 17^ an hr., 40 

girls ■ 375.00 

Total cost, 40 girls $672 .00 

Total cost per girl 16 . 80 

The Board of Education, for its part 
of the school, paid out $560 for the 
teacher's salary and for supplies. This 
was an expense of $14.80 for each pupil. 

The entire cost for educating each 
one of the forty girl workers, therefore, 
was only $31.60. 

That this money has been well spent 
is the opinion of the employer, for the 
school work increases the efficiency in 
the factory sufficiently to make up for 
the time taken out of working hours. 

" I would rather have these girls in 
my employ whom I can afford to pay 
from ten to twenty dollars a week," 
declares Mr. Sicher, " than many more 
whom I have to pay low wages simply 
because they are n't worth higher ones. 
From a business point of view, it saves 
space and space is money." 

That the result has been what the 
firm had anticipated in establishing 



VI. Cost op School 
1. Expense to firm 



Short table of fig- 
ures is comprehen- 
sible and not unin- 
teresting 



2. Cost to Board of 
Education 



3. Entire cost per pu- 
pil 

4. Returns outweigh 
cost 



Head of firm's state- 
ment given to con- 
vince readers 



VII. Summary Conclu- 
sion 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 115 

the school is shown by the following 1. Results quoted from 
statement which was made on the com- program 
mencement program: "It is the pres- 
ent behef of the firm that the workers Note appeal of "ef- 
who have been thus trained have ficiency" to practi- 
gained from 20 to 70 per cent in effi- cal readers 
ciency." 

How much the girls themselves have 2. Impression given 

gained more vital to them even than by girls 

efficiency was very evident to everyone Note patriotic ap- 

who looked into their faces as they re- peal in closing 

ceived the certificates that recognize phrase, which was 

them as " Literate American Citizens." a happy choice. 

Another Article on the Same Subject. This commence- 
ment at the factory school furnished another writer, Nixola 
Greeley Smith, with material for a special feature story 
which was sent out by a syndicate, the Newspaper Enter- 
prise Association, for publication in several hundred news- 
papers. Her story contains only 375 words and is thus 
less than one fifth the length of the other article. The au- 
thor centers the interest in one of the pupils, and shows 
the value of the school in terms of this girl's experience. 
The girl's own account of what the school has meant to 
her makes a strong '' human interest " appeal. By thus 
developing one concrete example effectively, the author is 
able to arouse more interest in the results of the school 
than she would have done if in the same space she had at- 
tempted to give a greater number of facts about it. Unlike 
the longer article, her story probably would not suggest to 
the reader the possibility of undertaking a similar enter- 
prise, because it does not give enough details about the 
organization and methods of the school to show how the 
idea could be applied elsewhere. 

The beginning of the shorter story was doubtless sug- 
gested by the presence at the exercises of Mary Antin, the 
author of " The Promised Land," who addressed the girls. 
The first sentence of it piques our curiosity to know how 
" the promised land " has kept its promise, and the story 
proceeds to tell us. The article, with an analysis of its 
main points, follows: 



116 



SPECLiL FEATURE ARTICLES 



WONDERFUL AMERICA ! THINKS LITTLE AUSTRIAN : 
WHO GR.\DUATES FROM FACTORY SCHOOL 



"The promised land"' has kept its 
promise to Rebecca Meyer I 

Eight months ago an illiterate Aus- 
trian immigrant girl, unable to speak or 
write English, went to work in a New 
York garment i acton,*. 

To-day, speaking and writiiig flu- 
ently the language of her adopted coun- 
try, proficient in other studies, she 
proudly cherishes the first "certificate 
of hteracy" issued by a factory — a 
factory which has paid her for going to 
school during working hours! 

It was Rebecca Meyer who received 
this first certificate, at the graduation 
exercises held on the top floor of the 
big women's wear factory of D. E. 
Sicher & Co. It was Rebecca Meyer 
who delivered the address of welcome 
to the members of the board of educa- 
tion, the members of the firm, her fel- 
low employees, and all the others gath- 
ered at these exercises — the first of 
their kind ever held in any commercial 
estabUshment, anj-where! 

"Isn't it wonderful!" she said. 
"When I came from Austria, I hoped 
to find work. That was all. How I 
should learn to speak the English lan- 
guage, I did not know. It might take 
me years, I thought. That I should go 
to school every day, while I worked — 
who could dream of such a thing? It 
could not be in any other countri- ex- 
cept America." 

Dudley E. Sicher. head of the firm, 
in whose workrooms a regularly organ- 
ized class of the New York pubhc 
schools has held its sessions all winter, 
stood smiling in the background. ]Mr. 
Sicher is president of the Cotton Goods 
Manufacturers' Association. It was 
he who conceived the idea, about a 



I. Story of Rebecca 
Meyer 
1. Striking statement 
beginning 

Note efi'ective use of 
device of contrast 

Second and third 
paragraphs show 
strik in g results lq 
one concrete case. 



Commencement 
Note that Rebecca 
is the central figure 



Dash used to set off 
imique element 

3. Rebecca's statement 
SHghtly imidiomatic 
English is suggestive 



11. Story of the School 

1. Origin of school 
Note method of in- 
troducing head of 
firm 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 117 

year ago, of increasing the efficiency 
of his women employees by giving them 
an education free of cost, during work- 
ing hours. 

" One of the first and most notice- 2. Results of school 

able results of the factory school has Statement of head 

been a marked decrease in the friction of firm 

and the waste of time caused by the 
inability of employees to comprehend 
directions. A girl who understands 
Enghsh, and has been enabled thereby 
to school herself in factory methods 
and conditions, does n't hesitate and 
blunder; she understands, and does. 
And what then? Why, higher pay." 

No wonder Rebecca Meyer is grate- III. Conclusion 
ful for the 45 minutes a day in which Rebecca again made 

button-sewing has given place to study the central figure 

— no wonder she thinks America must Appeal to reader's 

be the wonderland of all the world! pride in his country. 

Articles Composed of Units. The study of the two spe- 
cial feature stories on the factory school shows how arti- 
cles of this type are built up out of a number of units, such 
as examples, incidents, and statistics. A similar study of 
the other types of articles exempHfied in Chapter V will 
show that they also are made up of various kinds of units. 
Again, if we turn to the types of beginnings illustrated in 
Chapter VII, we shall i&nd that they, too, are units, which 
in some cases might have been used in the body of the 
article instead of as an introduction. Since, then, every 
division of a subject may be regarded as a unit that is com- 
plete in itself whatever its position in the article, each of 
the several kinds of units may be studied separately. For 
this purpose we may discuss five common types of units: 
(1) examples, (2) incidents, (3) statistics, (4) scientific and 
technical processes, and (5) recipes and directions. 

Methods of Developing Units. In order to present these 
units most effectively, and to vary the form of presenta- 
tion when occasion demands, a writer needs to be familiar 
with the different methods of developing each one of 
these types. Four common methods of handling material 



118 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

within these units are: (1) exposition, narration, or de- 
scription in the writer's own words; (2) dialogue; (3) the 
interview; (4) direct or indirect quotation. Statistics and 
recipes may also be given in tabular form. 

When a unit may be developed with equal effectiveness 
by any one of several methods, a writer should choose the 
one that gives variety to his article. If, for example, the 
units just before and after the one under consideration are 
to be in direct quotation, he should avoid any form that 
involves quoted matter. 

Examples. In all types of articles the concrete example 
is the commonest and most natural means of explaining a 
general idea. To most readers, for instance, the legal pro- 
visions of an old age pension law would be neither compre- 
hensible nor interesting, but a story showing how a particu- 
lar old man had been benefited by the law would appeal to 
practically every one. That is, to explain the operation 
and advantages of such a law, we give, as one unit, the con- 
crete example of this old man. Actual examples are pref- 
erable to hypothetical ones, but the latter may occasion- 
ally be used when real cases are not available. Imaginary 
instances may be introduced by such phrases as, " If, for 
example," or '' Suppose, for instance, that." 

To explain why companies that insure persons against 
loss of their jewelry are compelled to investigate carefully 
every claim filed with them, a writer in the Buffalo News 
gave several cases in which individuals supposed that they 
were entitled to payment for losses although subsequent 
investigation showed that they had not actually sustained 
any loss. One of these cases, that given below, he decided 
to relate in his own words, without conversation or quota- 
tion, although he might have quoted part of the affidavit, 
or might have given the dialogue between the detective 
and the woman who had lost the pin. No doubt he re- 
garded the facts themselves, together with the suspense 
as to the outcome of the search, as sufficiently interest- 
ing to render unnecessary any other device for creating 
interest. 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 119 

Another woman of equal wealth and equally undoubted hon- 
esty lost a horseshoe diamond pin. She and her maid looked 
everywhere, as they thought, but failed to find it. So she made 
her "proof of loss" in affidavit form and asked the surety com- 
pany with which she carried the policy on all her jeweky to re- 
place the article. 

She said in her affidavit that she had worn the pin in a restau- 
rant a few nights before and had lost it that night, either in the 
restaurant or on her way there or back. The restaurant manage- 
ment had searched for it, the restaurant help had been ques- 
tioned closely, the automobile used that night had been gone 
over carefully, and the woman's home had been ransacked. 
Particular attention had been given to the gown worn by the 
woman on that occasion; every inch of it had been examined 
with the idea that the pin, falling from its proper place, had 
caught in the folds. 

The surety company assigned one of its detectives to look for 
the pin. From surface indications the loss had the appearance of 
a theft — an "inside job." The company, however, asked that 
its detective be allowed to search the woman's house itself. The 
request was granted readily. The detective then inquired for the 
various gowns which the woman had worn for dress occasions 
within the preceding several weeks. 

This line of investigation the owner of the pin considered a 
waste of time, since she remembered distinctly wearing the pin to 
the restaurant on that particular night, and her husband also re- 
membered seeing it that night and put his memory in affidavit 
form. But the detective persisted and with the help of a maid 
examined carefully those other gowns. 

In the ruffle at the bottom of one of them, worn for the last 
time at least a week before the visit to the restaurant, she found 
the pin. The woman and her husband simply had been mistaken 
— honestly mistaken. She had n't worn the pin to the restau- 
rant, and her husband had n't seen it that night. The error was 
unintentional, but it came very near costing the surety company a 
large sum of money. 

The benefits of a newly established clinic for animals 
were demonstrated in a special feature article in the New 
York Times by the selection of several animal patients as 
typical cases. Probably the one given below did not seem 



120 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

to the writer to be sufficiently striking if only the bare facts 
were given, and so he undertook to create sympathy by 
describing the poor, whimpering httle dog and the distress 
of the two young women. By arousing the sympathies of 
the readers, he was better able to impress them with the 
benefits of the cUnic. 

The other day Daisy, a little fox terrier, was one of the patients. 
She was a pretty little thing, three months old, with a silky coat 
and big, pathetic eyes. She was escorted to the clinic by two hat- 
less young women, in shawls, and three children. The children 
waited outside in the reception room, standing in a line, grinning 
self-consciously, while the women followed Daisy into the exam- 
ination room. There she was gently muzzled with a piece of 
bandage, and the doctor examined her. There was something 
the matter with one hind leg, and the poor little animal whim- 
pered pitifully, as dogs do, while the doctor searched for a broken 
bone. It was too much for one of the women. She left the 
room, and, standing outside the door, put her fingers in her 
ears, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. 

"Well, I would n't cry for a dog," said a workman, putting in 
some S.P.C.A. receiving boxes, with a grin, while the three chil- 
dren — and children are always more or less little savages — 
grinned sympathetically. But it was a very real sorrow for Dai- 
sy's mistress. 

There was no reason for alarm; it was only a sprain, caused by 
her mistress' catching the animal by the leg when she was giving 
her a bath. Her friends were told to take her home, bathe the leg 
with warm water, and keep her as quiet as possible. Her mistress, 
still with a troubled face, wrapped her carefully in the black 
shawl she was wearing, so that only the puppy's little white head 
and big, soft eyes peeped out, and the small procession moved 
away. 

In a special feature story designed to show how much 
more intelligently the first woman judge in this country 
could deal with cases of delinquent girls in the juvenile 
court than could the ordinary police court judge, a writer 
selected several cases that she had disposed of in her char- 
acteristic way. The first case, which follows, he decided 
could best be reported verbatim, as by that method he 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 121 

could show most clearly the kindly attitude of the judge in 
dealing with even the least appreciative of girls. 

The first case brought in the other day was that of a girl of 16, 
who hated her home and persisted in running away, sometimes to 
a married sister, and sometimes to a friend. She was accompanied 
by her mother and older sister, both with determined lower jaws 
and faces as hard as flint. She swaggered into the room in an im- 
pudent way to conceal the fact that her bravado was leaving her. 

"Ella," said Miss Bartelme, looking up from her desk, "why 
did n't you tell me the truth when you came in here the other day? 
You did not tell me where you had been. Don't you under- 
stand that it is much easier for me to help you if you speak the 
truth right away .5^" 

Ella hung her head and said nothing. The older sister scowled 
at the girl and muttered something to the mother. 

"No," refused the mother, on being questioned. "We don't 
want nothing more to do with her." 

"Humph," snorted Ella, "you need n't think I want to come 
back. I don't want nothing more to do with you, either." 

Miss Bartelme often lets the family fight things out among 
themselves; for in this way, far more than by definite questioning, 
she learns the attitude of the girl and the family toward each 
other, and indirectly arrives at most of the actual facts of the case. 

"How would you like to go into a good home where some one 
would love you and care for you.^" asked the judge. 

" I don't want nobody to love me." 

"Why, Ella, would n't you like to have a kind friend, some- 
body you could confide in and go walking with and who would 
be interested in you?" 

" I don't want no friends. I just want to be left alone." 

"Well, Ella," said the judge, patiently, ignoring her suUenness, 
" I think we shall send you back to Park Ridge for a while. But 
if you ever change your mind about wanting friends let us know, 
because we'll be here and shall feel the same way as we do now 
about it." 

To explain to readers of the Kansas City Star how a 
bloodhound runs down a criminal, a special feature writer 
asked them to imagine that a crime had been committed at 
a particular corner in that city and that a bloodhound had 
been brought to track the criminal; then he told them what 



122 ' SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

would happen if the crime were committed, first, when the 
streets were deserted, or second, when they were crowded. 
In other words, he gave two imaginary instances to illus- 
trate the manner in which bloodhounds are able to foUow a 
trail. Obviously these two hypothetical cases are suffi- 
ciently plausible and typical to explain the idea. 

If a bloodhound is brought to the scene of the crime within a 
reasonable length of time after it has been committed, and the 
dog has been properly trained, he will unfailingly run down the 
criminal, provided, of course, that thousands of feet have not 
tramped over the ground. 

If, for instance, a crime were committed at Twelfth and Walnut 
streets at 3 o'clock in the morning, when few persons are on the 
street, a well-trained bloodhound would take the trail of the crimi- 
nal at daybreak and stick to it with a grim determination that ap- 
pears to be uncanny, and he would follow the trail as swiftly as if 
the hunted man had left his shadow all along the route. 

But let the crime be committed at noon when the section is 
alive with humanity and remain undiscovered until after dark, 
then the bloodhound is put at a disadvantage and his wonderful 
powers would fail him, no doubt. 

Incidents. Narrative articles, such as personal experi- 
ence stories, confessions, and narratives in the third per- 
son, consist almost entirely of incidents. Dialogue and 
description are very frequently employed in relating inci- 
dents, even when the greater part of the incident is told in 
the writer's own words. The incidents given as examples 
of narrative beginnings on pages 135-37 are sufficient to 
illustrate the various methods of developing incidents as 
units. 

Statistics. To make statistical facts comprehensible 
and interesting is usually a difficult problem for the inex- 
perienced writer. Masses of figures generally mean very 
little to the average reader. Unless the significance of 
statistics can be quickly grasped, they are almost valueless 
as a means of explanation. One method of simpUfying 
them is to translate them into terms with which the aver- 
age reader is f amihar. This may often be done by reducing 



^ » \ "^ f ^^^WfertlNG THE ARTICLE 123 

large figures to smaller ones. Instead of saying, for ex- 
ample, that a press prints 36,000 newspapers an hour, we 
may say that it prints 10 papers a second, or 600 a minute. 
To most persons 36,000 papers an hour means little more 
than a large number, but 10 papers and one second are 
figures sufficiently small to be understood at a glance. 
Statistics sometimes appear less formidable if they are 
incorporated in an interview or in a conversation. 

In undertaking to explain the advantages of a coopera- 
tive community store, a writer was confronted with the 
problem of handling a considerable number of figures. 
The first excerpt below shows how he managed to distrib- 
ute them through several paragraphs, thus avoiding any 
awkward massing of figures. In order to present a number 
of comparative prices, he used the concrete case, given be- 
low, of an investigator making a series of purchases at the 
store. 

(1) 

Here *s the way the manager of the community store started. 
He demonstrated to his neighbors by actual figures that they 
were paying anywhere from $2 to $8 a week more for their grocer- 
ies and supplies than they needed to. This represented the mid- 
dlemen's profits. 

He then proposed that if a hundred families would pay him 
regularly 50 cents a week, he would undertake to supply them 
with garden truck, provisions and meats at wholesale prices. To 
clinch the demonstration he showed that an average family would 
save this 50-cent weekly fee in a few days' purchases. 

:{: 4: :{: ^ :ic 

There is no difference in appearance between the community 
store and any other provision store. There is no difference in the 
way you buy your food. The only difference is that you pay 50 
cents a week on a certain day each week and buy food anywhere 
from 15 to 40 per cent less than at the commercial, non-coopera- 
tive retail stores. 

(2) 

The other day an investigator from the department of agricul- 
ture went to the Washington community store to make an experi- 



124 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

ment. He paid Ms 50-cent weekly membership fee and made some 
purchases. He bought a 10-cent carton of oatmeal for 8 cents; a 
10-cent loaf of bread for 8 cents; one-half peck of string beans for 
20 cents, instead of for 30 cents, the price in the non-cooperative 
stores; three pounds of veal for 58 cents instead of 80 cents; a half 
dozen oranges for 13 cents instead of the usual price of from 20 to 
25 cents. His total purchases amounted to $1.32, and the esti- 
mated saving was 49 cents — within 1 cent of the entire weekly 
fee. 

Since to the average newspaper reader it would not 
mean much to say that the cost of the public schools 
amounted to several hundred thousand dollars a year, a 
special feature writer calculated the relation of the school 
appropriation to the total municipal expenditure and then 
presented the results as fractions of a dollar, thus: 

Of every dollar that each taxpayer in this city paid to the city 
treasurer last year, 45 cents was spent on the pubUc schools. 
This means that nearly one-half of all the taxes were expended on 
giving boys and girls an education. 

Of that same dollar only 8 cents went to maintain the police de- 
partment, 12 cents to keep up the fire department, and 13 cents 
for general expenses of the city offices. 

Out of the 45 cents used for school purposes, over one-haK, or 
24 cents, was paid as salaries to teachers and principals. Only 8 
cents went for operation, maintenance, and similar expenses. 

How statistics may be effectively embodied in an inter- 
view is demonstrated by the following excerpt from a spe- 
cial feature story on a workmen's compensation law ad- 
ministered by a state industrial board: 

Judge J. B. Vaughn, who is at the head of the board, estimates 
that the system of settling compensation by means of a commis- 
sion instead of by the regular courts has saved the state $1,000,- 
000 a year since its inception in 1913. "Under the usual court 
proceedings," he says, "each case of an injured workman versus 
his employer costs from $250 to $300. Under the workings of the 
industrial board the average cost is no more than $20. 

"In three and one-half years 8,000 cases have come before us. 
Nine out of every ten have been adjusted by our eight picked ar- 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 125 

bitrators, who tour the state, visiting promptly each scene of an 
accident and adjusting the compensation as quickly as possible. 
The tenth case, which requires a lengthier or more painstaking 
hearing, is brought to the board. 

"Seven million dollars has been in this time ordered to be paid 
to injured men and their families. Of this no charge of any sort 
has been entered against the workers or their beneficiaries. The 
costs are taken care of by the state. Fully 90 per cent of all the 
cases are settled within the board, which means that only 10 per 
cent are carried further into the higher courts for settlement." 

Processes. To make scientific and technical processes 
sufficiently simple to appeal to the layman, is another 
problem for the writer of popular articles. A narrative- 
descriptive presentation that enables the reader to visual- 
ize and follow the process, step by step, as though it were 
taking place before his eyes, is usually the best means of 
making it both understandable and interesting. 

In a special feature story on methods of exterminating 
mosquitoes, a writer in the Detroit News undertook to 
trace the life history of a mosquito. In order to popularize 
these scientific details, he describes a ^' baby mosquito " in 
a concrete, informal manner, and, as he tells the story of 
its life, suggests or points out specifically its likeness to a 
human being. 

The baby mosquito is a regular little water bug. You call him 
a " wiggler ' ' when you see him swinuning about in a puddle. His 
head is wide and flat and his eyes are set well out at the sides, 
while in front of them he has a pair of cute little horns or feelers. 
While the baby mosquito is brought up in the water, he is an air- 
breather and comes to the top to breathe as do frogs and musk- 
rats and many other water creatures of a higher order. 

Like most babies the mosquito larva believes that his mission 
is to eat as much as he can and grow up very fast. This he does, 
and if the weather is warm and the food abundant, he soon out- 
grows his skin. He proceeds to grow a new skin underneath the 
old one, and when he finds himself protected, he bursts out of his 
old clothes and comes out in a spring suit. This molting process 
occurs several times within a week or two, but the last time he 
takes on another form. He is then called a pupa, and is in a 



126 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

strange transition period during which he does not eat. He now 
slowly takes on the form of a true mosquito within his pupal skin 
or shell. 

After two or three days, or perhaps five or six, if conditions are 
not altogether favorable, he feels a great longing within him to 
rise to something higher. His tiny shell is floating upon the 
water with his now winged body closely packed within. The 
skin begins to spht along the back and the true baby mosquito 
starts to work himself out. It is a strenuous task for him and con- 
sumes many minutes. 

At last he appears and sits dazed and exhausted, floating on his 
old skin as on a little boat, and slowly working his new wings in 
the sunlight, as if to try them out before essaying flight. It is a 
moment of great peril. A passing ripple may swamp his tiny 
craft and shipwreck him to become the prey of any passing fish or 
vagrant frog. A swallow sweeping close to the water's surface 
may gobble him down. Some ruthless city employe may have 
flooded the surface of the pond with kerosene, the merest touch of 
which means death to a mosquito. Escaping all of the thousand 
and one accidents that may befall, he soon rises and hums 
away seeking whom he may devour. 

A mechanical process, that of handling milk at a model 
dairy farm, was effectively presented by Constance D. 
Leupp in an article entitled, " The Fight for Clean Milk," 
printed in the Outlook. By leading *'you," the reader, to 
the spot, as it were, by picturing in detail what ** you " 
would see there, and then by following in story form the 
course of the milk from one place to another, she succeeded 
in making the process clear and interesting. 

Here at five in the afternoon you may see long lines of sleek, 
well-groomed cows standing in their cement-floored, perfectly 
drained sheds. The walls and ceilings are spotless from constant 
applications of whitewash, ventilation is scientifically arranged, 
doors and windows are screened against the flies. Here the white- 
clad, smooth-shaven milkers do their work with scrubbed and 
manicured hands. You will note that all these men are studi- 
ously low- voiced and gentle in movement; for a cow, notwith- 
standing her outward placidity, is the most sensitive creature 
on earth, and there is an old superstition that if you speak roughly 
to your cow she will earn no money for you that day. 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 127 

As each pail is filled it is carried directly into the milk-house; 
not into the bottling-room, for in that sterilized sanctum nobody 
except the bottler is admitted, but into the room above, where the 
pails are emptied into the strainer of a huge receptacle. From 
the base of this receptacle it flows over the radiator in the bottling- 
room, which reduces it at once to the required temperature, thence 
into the mechanical bottler. The white-clad attendant places a 
tray containing several dozen empty bottles underneath, presses 
a lever, and, presto! they are full and not a drop spilled. He caps 
the bottles with another twist of the lever, sprays the whole with 
a hose, picks up the load and pushes it through the horizontal 
dumb-waiter, where another attendant receives it in the packing- 
room. The second man clamps a metal cover over the paste- 
board caps and packs the bottles in ice. Less than half an hour 
is consumed in the milking of each cow, the straining, chilling, 
bottUng, and storing of her product. 

Practical Guidance Units. To give in an attractive 
form complete and accurate directions for doing something 
in a certain way, is another difficult problem for the inex- 
perienced writer. For interest and variety, conversation, 
interviews and other forms of direct quotation, as well as 
informal narrative, may be employed. 

Various practical methods of saving fuel in cooking were 
given by a writer in Successful Farming, in what purported 
to be an account of a meeting of a farm woman^s club at 
which the problem was discussed. By the device of al- 
lowing the members of the club to relate their experiences, 
she was able to offer a large number of suggestions. Two 
units selected from different portions of the article illus- 
trate this method: 

"I save dollars by cooking in my furnace," added a practical 
worker. "Potatoes bake nicely when laid on the ledge, and 
beans, stews, roasts, bread — in fact the whole food list — may 
be cooked there. But one must be careful not to have too 
hot a fire. I burned several things before I learned that even 
a few red coals in the fire-pot will be sufficient for practically 
everything. And then it does blacken the pans ! But I ' ve solved 
that difficulty by bending a piece of tin and setting it between the 
fire and the cooking vessel. This prevents burning, too, if the 



128 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

fire should be hot. Another plan is to set the vessel in an old pre- 
serving kettle. If this outer kettle does not leak, it may be filled 
with water, which not only aids in the cooking process but also 
prevents burning. For broiling or toasting, a large corn popper 
is just the thing." 

***** 

"My chief saving," confided the member who believes in pre- 
paredness, "consists in cooking things in quantities, especially 
the things that require long cooking, like baked beans or soup. 
I never think of cooking less than two days' supply of beans, and 
as for soup, that is made up in quantity sufficient to last a week. 
If I have no ice, reheating it each day during warm weather pre- 
vents spoiling. Most vegetables are not harmed by a second 
cooking, and, besides the saving in fuel it entails, it's mighty com- 
forting to know that you have your dinner already prepared for 
the next day, or several days before for that matter. In cold 
weather, or if you have ice, it will not be necessary to introduce 
monotony into your meals in order to save fuel, for one can wait a 
day or two before serving the extra quantity. Sauces, either for 
vegetables, meats or puddings, may just as well be made for more 
than one occasion, altho if milk is used in their preparation, care 
must be taken that they are kept perfectly cold, as ptomaines de- 
velop rapidly in such foods. Other things that it pays to cook in 
large portions are chocolate syrup for making cocoa, caramel 
for flavoring, and apple sauce." 

By using a conversation between a hostess and her 
guest, another writer in the same farm journal succeeded 
in giving in a novel way some directions for preparing 
celery. 

"Your escalloped corn is delicious. Where did you get your 
recipe?" 

Mrs. Field smiled across the dining table at her guest. "Out 
of my head, I suppose, for I never saw it in print. I just followed 
the regulation method of a layer of corn, then seasoning, and re- 
peat, only I cut into small pieces a stalk or two of celery with each 
layer of corn." 

"Celery and corn — a new combination, but it 's a good one. 
I'm so glad to learn of it; but is n't it tedious to cut the celery 
into such small bits?" 



WRITING THE ARTICLE 129 

"Not at all, with my kitchen scissors. I just slash the stalk 
into several lengthwise strips, then cut them crosswise all at once 
into very small pieces." 

''You always have such helpful ideas about new and easy ways 
to do your work. And economical, too. Why, celery for a dish 
like this could be the outer stalks or pieces too small to be used 
fresh on the table." 

''That's the idea, exactly. I use such celery in soups and 
stews of all kinds; it adds such a delicious flavor. It is especially 
good in poultry stuffings and meat loaf. Then there is creamed 
celery, of course, to which I sometimes add a half cup of almonds 
for variety. And I use ifc in salads, too. Not a bit of celery is 
wasted around here. Even the leaves may be dried out in the 
oven, and crumbled up to flavor soups or other dishes." 

"That 's fine! Celery is so high this season, and much of it is 
not quite nice enough for the table, unless cooked." 

A number of new uses for adhesive plaster were sug- 
gested by a writer in the New York Tribune^ who, in the 
excerpt below, employs effectively the device of the direct 
appeal to the reader. 

Aside from surgical "First Aid" and the countless uses to which 
this useful material may be put, there are a great number of house- 
hold uses for adhesive plaster. 

If your pumps are too large and slip at the heel, just put a 
strip across the back and they will stay in place nicely. When 
your rubbers begin to break repair them on the inside with plas- 
ter cut to fit. If the children lose their rubbers at school, write their 
names with black ink on strips of the cHnging material and put 
these strips inside the top of the rubber at the back. 

In the same way labels can be made for bottles and cans. 
They are easy to put on and to take off. If the garden hose, the 
rubber tube of your bath spray, or your hot water bag shows a 
crack or a small break, mend it with adhesive. 

A cracked handle of a broom, carpet sweeper, or umbrella can 
be repaired with this first aid to the injured. In the same way the 
handles of golf sticks, baseball bats, flagstaffs and whips may 
be given a new lease on life. 

If your sheet music is torn or the window shade needs repairing, 
or there is a cracked pane of glass in the barn or in a rear window, 
apply a strip or patch of suitable size. 



130 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

In an article in the Philadelphia Ledger on '^ What Can I 
Do to Earn Money? " Mary Hamilton Talbot gave sev- 
eral examples of methods of earning money, in one of which 
she incorporated practical directions, thus: 

A resourceful girl who loved to be out-of-doors found her op- 
portunity in a bed of mint and aromatic herbs. She sends 
bunches of the mint neatly prepared to various hotels and 
cafes several times a week by parcel post, but it is in the over- 
supply that she works out best her original ideas. Among the 
novelties she makes is a candied mint that sells quickly. Here 
is her formula: Cut bits of mint, leaving three or four small 
leaves on the branch; wash well; dry and lay in rows on a broad, 
level surface. Thoroughly dissolve one pound of loaf sugar, boil 
until it threads and set from the fire. While it is still at the 
boiling point plunge in the bits of mint singly with great care. 
Remove them from the fondant with a fork and straighten the 
leaves neatly with a hatpin or like instrument. If a second 
plunging is necessary, allow the first coating to become thor- 
oughly cr^'stahzed before dipping them again. Lay the sweets 
on oiled paper until thoroughly dry. With careful handling these 
mints will preserve their natural aroma, taste, and shape, and 
will keep for any length of time if sealed from the air. They 
show to best advantage in glass. The sweet-smelling herbs of 
this girl's garden she dries and sells to the fancy goods trade, and 
they are used for fiUing cushions, pillows, and perfume bags. 
The seasoning herbs she dries, pulverizes, and puts in small 
glasses, nicely labeled, which sell for 10 cents each, and rehable 
grocers are glad to have them for their fastidious customers. 



CHAPTER VII 
HOW TO BEGIN 

Importance of the Beginning. The value of a good be- 
ginning for a news story, a special feature article, or a short 
story results from the way in which most persons read 
newspapers and magazines. In glancing through current 
publications, the average reader is attracted chiefly by 
headlines or titles, illustrations, and authors' names. If 
any one of these interests him, he pauses a moment or two 
over the beginning " to see what it is all about.'* The first 
paragraphs usually determine whether or not he goes any 
further. A single copy of a newspaper or magazine offers 
so much reading matter that the casual reader, if disap- 
pointed in the introduction to one article or short story, 
has plenty of others to choose from. But if the opening 
sentences hold his attention, he reads on. " Well begun is 
half done " is a saying that applies with pecuHar fitness to 
special feature articles. 

Structure of the Beginning. To accomplish its purpose 
an introduction must be both a unit in itself and an inte- 
gral part of the article. The beginning, whether a single 
paragraph in form, or a single paragraph in essence, al- 
though actually broken up into two or more short para- 
graphs, should produce on the mind of the reader a unified 
impression. The conversation, the incident, the example, 
or the summary of which it consists, should be complete in 
itself. Unless, on the other hand, the introduction is an 
organic part of the article, it fails of its purpose. The be- 
ginning must present some vital phase of the subject; it 
should not be merely something attractive attached to the 
article to catch the reader's notice. In his effort to make 
the beginning attractive, an inexperienced writer is in- 
clined to hnger over it until it becomes disproportionately 
long. Its length, however, should be proportionate to the 



132 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

importance of that phase of the subject which it presents. 
As a vital part of the article, the introduction must be so 
skillfully connected with what follows that a reader is not 
conscious of the transition. Close coherence between the 
beginning and the body of the article is essential. 

The four faults, therefore, to be guarded against in writ- 
ing the beginning are: (1) the inclusion of diverse details 
not carefully coordinated to produce a single unified im- 
pression; (2) the development of the introduction to a dis- 
proportionate length; (3) failure to make the beginning a 
vital part of the article itself; (4) lack of close connection 
or of skillful transition between the introduction and the 
body of the article. 

Types of Beginnings, Because of the importance of 
the introduction, the writer should familiarize himseK with 
the different kinds of beginnings, and should study them 
from the point of view of their suitability for various types 
of articles. The seven distinct types of beginnings are: 
(1) summary; (2) narrative; (3) description; (4) striking 
statement; (5) quotation; (6) question; (7) direct ad- 
dress. Combinations of two or more of these methods are 
not infrequent. 

Summary Beginnings. The general adoption by news- 
papers of the summary beginning, or *' lead," for news 
stories has accustomed the average reader to finding most 
of the essential facts of a piece of news grouped together in 
the first paragraph. The lead, by telling the reader the 
nature of the event, the persons and things concerned, the 
time, the place, the cause, and the result, answers his ques- 
tions. What? Who? When? Where? Why? How? 
Not only are the important facts summarized in such a be- 
ginning, but the most striking detail is usually " played 
up " in the first group of words of the initial sentence, 
where it catches the eye at once. Thus the reader is 
given both the main facts and the most significant feature 
of the subject. Unquestionably this news story lea^i, 
when skillfully worked out, has distinct advantages alike 
for the news report and for the special article. 



HOW TO BEGIN 133 

Summaiy Beginnings 
(1) 

(Kansas City Star) 

A FRESH AIR PALACE READY 

A PALACE of sunshine, a glass house of fresh air, will be the 
Christmas offering of Kansas City to the fight against tubercu- 
losis, the "Great White Plague." Ten miles from the business 
district of the city, overlooking a horizon miles away over valley 
and hill, stands the finest tuberculosis hospital in the United 
States. The newly completed institution, although not the larg- 
est hospital of the kind, is the best equipped and finest appointed. 
It is symbolic of sunshine and pure air, the cure for the disease. 

(2) 
(New York World) 

STOPPING THE COST OF LIVING LEAKS 

By marie COOLIDGE RASK 

After ten weeks' instruction in domestic economy at a New 
York high school, a girl of thirteen has been the means of reducing 
the expenditure in a family of seven to the extent of five dollars a 
week. 

The girl is Anna Scheiring, American born, of Austrian ances- 
try, living with her parents and brothers and sisters in a five-room 
apartment at No. 769 East One Hundred and Fifty-eighth Street, 
where her father, Joseph Scheiring is superintendent of the building. 

The same economic practices applied by little Anna Scheiring 
are at the present time being worked out in two thousand other 
New York homes whose daughters are pupils in the Washington 
Irving High School. 

(3) 

(The Outlook) 

THE FIGHT FOR CLEAN MILK 

By CONSTANCE D. LEUPP 

Two million quarts of milk are shipped into New York every 
day. One hundred thousand of those who drink it are babies. 



134 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

The milk comes from forty-four thousand dairy farms scattered 
through New York, New Jersey, Comiecticut, Massachusetts, 
Pernisylvania, Vermont, and even Ohio. 

A large proportion of the two million quarts travels thirty-six 
hours before it lands on the front doorstep of the consumer. The 
situation in New York is duplicated in a less acute degree in every 
city in the United States. 

Narrative Beginnings. To begin a special feature article 
in the narrative form is to give it a story-like character 
that at once arouses interest. It is impossible in many in- 
stances to. know from the introduction whether what fol- 
lows is to be a short story or a special article. An element 
of suspense may even be injected into the narrative intro- 
duction to stimulate the reader's curiosity, and descriptive 
touches may be added to heighten the vividness. 

If the whole article is in narrative form, as is the case 
in a personal experience or confession story, the intro- 
duction is only the first part of a continuous story, and 
as such gives the necessary information about the person 
involved. 

Narrative beginnings that consist of concrete examples 
and specific instances are popular for expository articles. 
Sometimes several instances are related in the introduction 
before the writer proceeds to generalize from them. The 
advantage of this inductive method of explanation grows 
out of the fact that, after a general idea has been illustrated 
by an example or two, most persons can grasp it with much 
less effort and with much greater interest than when such 
exemplification follows the generalization. 

Other narrative introductions consist of an anecdote, an 
incident, or an important event connected with the subject 
of the article. 

Since conversation is an excellent means of enlivening 
a narrative, dialogue is often used in the introduction to 
epecial articles, whether for relating an incident, giving a 
specific instance, or beginning a personal experience story. 



HOW TO BEGIN 135 

Narrative Beginnings ^ 

(1) 
(The Oidlook) 

BOOKER T. WASHINGTON 

By EMMETT J. SCOTT and LYMAN BEECHER STOWE 

It came about that in the year 1880, in Macon County, Ala- 
bama, a certain ex-Confederate colonel conceived the idea that if 
he could secure the Negro vote he could beat his rival and win the 
seat he coveted in the State Legislature. Accordingly the colonel 
went to the leading Negro in the town of Tuskegee and asked him 
what he could do to secure the Negro vote, for Negroes then voted 
in Alabama without restriction. This man, Lewis Adams by 
name, himself an ex-slave, promptly replied that what his race 
most wanted was education, and what they most needed was in- 
dustrial education, and that if he (the colonel) would agree to 
work for the passage of a bill appropriating money for the main- 
tenance of an industrial school for Negroes, he, Adams, would 
help to get for him the Negro vote and the election. This bargain 
between an ex-slaveholder and an ex-slave was made and faith- 
fully observed on both sides, with the result that the following 
year the Legislature of Alabama appropriated $2,000 a year for 
the establishment of a normal and industrial school for Negroes in 
the town of Tuskegee. On the recommendation of General Arm- 
strong, of Hampton Institute, a young colored man, Booker T. 
Washington, a recent graduate of and teacher at the Institute, was 
called from there to take charge of this landless, buildingless, 
teacherless, and studentless institution of learning. 

(2) 

(Leslie^s Weekly) 

MILLIONAIRES MADE BY WAR 

By homer CROY 

A TALL, gaunt, barefooted Missouri hill-billy stood beside his 
rattly, dish-wheeled wagon waiting to see the mighty proprietor 
of the saw mill who guessed only too well that the hdll-billy had 
something he wanted to swap for lumber. 



136 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

''What can I do for you?" 

The hillman shifted his weight uneasily. "I 'low I got some- 
thun of powerful lot of interest to yuh." Reaching over the side 
of the wagon he placed his rough hand tenderly on a black lump. 
" I guess yuh know what it is." 

The saw mill proprietor glanced at it depreciatingly and turned 
toward the mill. 

'' It 's lead, pardner, pure lead, and I know where it come from. 
I could take you right to the spot — ef I wanted to." 

The mill proprietor hooked a row of fingers under the rough 
stone and tried to lift it. But he could not budge it. "It does 
seem to have lead in it. What was you calc'lating askin' for 
showin' me where you found it?" 

The farmer from the foothills cut his eyes down to crafty slits. 
*'I was 'lowing just tother day as how a house pattern would 
come in handy. Ef you '11 saw me out one I '11 take you to the 
spot." And so the deal was consummated, the hill-billy glee- 
fully driving away, joyous over having got a fine house pattern 
worth $40 for merely showing a fellow where you could pick up a 
few hunks of lead. 

That was forty-five years ago and it was thus that the great 
Joplin lead and zinc district was made known to the world. 



(3) 

(Munsey^s Magazine) 

FRANK A. SCOTT, CHAIRMAN OF THE WAR 
INDUSTRIES BOARD 

By THEODORE TILLER 

One day in the year 1885 a twelve-year-old boy, who had to 
leave school and make his own way in the world on account of 
his father's death, applied for a job in a railroad freight-office in 
Cleveland, Ohio. 

'Tm afraid you won't do," said the chief. "We need a boy, 
but you're not tall enough to reach the letter-press." 

"Well, could n't I stand on a box?" suggested the young seeker 
of employment. 

That day a box was added to the equipment of the freight-office 
and the name of Frank A. Scott to the payroll. ,^ 



HOW TO BEGIN 137 

(4) 

(New York Times) 

NEW YORKER INVENTS NEW EXPLOSIVE AND 
GIVES IT TO THE UNITED STATES 

Nine young men recently rowed to the middle of the Hudson 
River with a wooden box to which wires were attached, lying in 
the bottom of the boat. They sank the box in deep water very 
cautiously, and then rowed slowly back to land, holding one end 
of the wire. Presently a column of water 40 feet through and 300 
feet high shot into the air, followed by a deafening detonation, 
which tore dead branches from trees. 

The nine young men were congratulating one man of the group 
on the explosion when an irate farmer ran up, yelling that every 
window in his farmhouse, nearly a mile away, had been shattered. 
The party of young men did n't apologize then; they gathered about 
the one who was being congratulated and recongratulated him. 

The farmer did not know until later that the force which broke 
his windows and sent the huge column of water into the air was 
the War Department's newest, safest, and most powerful explo- 
sive; that the young men composed the dynamite squad of the 
Engineer Corps of the New York National Guard; and that the 
man they were congratulating was Lieut. Harold Chase Wood- 
ward, the inventor of the explosive. 

(5) 

(System) 

WHY THE EMPLOYEES RUN OUR BUSINESS 

A business of the workers, by the workers, and for 

the workers — how it succeeds. 

By EDWARD A. FILENE 

" I KNOW I am right. Leave it to any fair-minded person to 
decide." 

"Good enough,'^ I replied; "you name one, I will name another, 
and let them select a third." 

She agreed; we selected the umpires and they decided against 
the store! 

It had come about in this way. The store rule had been that 
cashiers paid for shortages in their accounts as — in our view — 



138 w SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

a penalty for carelessness; we did not care about the money. This 
girl had been short in an account; the amount had been deducted 
from her pay, and, not being afraid to speak out, she complained: 

*'If I am over in my accounts, it is a mistake; but if I am 
short, am I a thief? Why should I pay back the money? Why 
can't a mistake be made in either direction?" 

This arbitration — although it had caused a decision against 
us — seemed such a satisfactory way of ending disputes that we 
continued the practice in an informal way. Out of it grew the 
present arbitration board, which is the corner-stone of the rela- 
tion between our store and the employees, because it affords the 
machinery for getting what employees are above all else inter- 
ested in — a square deal. 

Descriptive Beginnings. Just as description of char- 
acters or of scene and setting is one method of begin- 
ning short stories and novels, so also it constitutes a form 
of introduction for an article. In both cases the aim is to 
create immediate interest by vivid portrayal of definite 
persons and places. The concrete word picture, like the 
concrete instance in a narrative beginning, makes a quick 
and strong appeal. An element of suspense or mystery 
may be introduced into the description, if a person, a place, 
or an object is described without being identified by name 
until the end of the portrayal. 

The possibifities of description are not limited to sights 
alone; sounds, odors and other sense impressions, as well 
as emotions, may be described. Frequently several differ- 
ent impressions are combined. To stir the reader's feel- 
ings by a strong emotional description is obviously a good 
method of beginning. 

A descriptive beginning, to be clear to the rapid reader, 
should be suggestive rather than detailed. The average 
person can easily visuahze a picture that is sketched in a 
few suggestive words, whereas he is likely to be confused 
by a mass of details. Picture-making words and those 
imitative of sounds, as well as figures of speech, may be 
used to advantage in descriptive beginnings. For the de- 
scription of feeUngs, words with a rich emotional connota- 
tion are important. 



HOW TO BEGIN ^ 139 

Descriptive Beginnings 
(1) 

(Munsey^s Magazine) 

OUR HIGHEST COURT 

By HORACE TOWNER 

"The Honorable the Supreme Court of the United States!" 

Nearly every week-day during the winter months, exactly at 
noon, these warning words, intoned in a resonant and solemn 
voice, may be heard by the visitor who chances to pass the doors 
of the Supreme Court Chamber in the Capitol of the United 
States. The visitor sees that others are entering those august 
portals, and so he, too, makes bold to step softly inside. 

If he has not waited too long, he finds himself within the cham- 
ber in time to see nine justices of our highest court, clad in long, 
black robes, file slowly into the room from an antechamber at the 
left. 

Every one within the room has arisen, and all stand respectfully 
at attention while the justices take their places. Then the voice 
of the court crier is heard again: 

'^Oyez, oyez, oyez! All persons having business with the Su- 
preme Court of the United States are admonished to draw near 
and give their attention, for the court is now sitting." 

Then, after a slight pause: 

" God save the United States and this honorable court! " 

The justices seat themselves; the attorneys at the bar and visi- 
tors do Hkewise. The Supreme Court of the United States, gen- 
erally held to be the most powerful tribunal on earth, is in session. 

(2) 

{Collier's Weekly) 

JAMES WHITCOMB BROUGHER, A PREACHER 
TO THE PROCESSION 

Bt peter CLARK MACFARLANE 

Imagine the Hippodrome — the largest playhouse of New 
York and of the New World! Imagine it filled with people from 



140 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

foot-lights to the last row in the topmost gallery — orchestra, 
dress circle, and balconies — a huge uprising, semicircular bowl, 
lined with human beings. Imagine it thus, and then strip the 
stage; take away the Indians and the soldiers, the elephants 
and the camels; take away the careening stage coaches and the 
thundering hoofs of horses, and all the strange conglomeration of 
dramatic activities with which these inventive stage managers are 
accustomed to panoply their productions. Instead of all this, peo- 
ple the stage with a chorus choir in white smocks, and in front of 
the choir put a lean, upstanding, shock-headed preacher; but 
leave the audience — a regular Hippodrome audience on the big- 
gest Saturday night. Imagine all of this, I say, and what you 
have is not the Hippodrome, not the greatest play in the New 
World, nor any playhouse at all, but the Temple Baptist Church 
of Los Angeles, California, with James Whitcomb Brougher, 
D.D., in the pulpit. 



(3) 

{The Independent) 

THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE A "FAKE" 
What the Country Schoolhouse Really Is, and Why 

By EDNA M. HILL 

The schoolhouse squats dour and silent in its acre of weeds. A 
little to the rear stand two wretched outbuildings. Upon its gray 
clapboarded sides, window blinds hang loose and window sashes 
sag away from their frames. Groaning upon one hinge the vesti- 
bule door turns away from lopsided steps, while a broken drain 
pipe sways perilously from the east corner of the roof. 

Within and beyond the vestibule is the schoolroom, a monotony 
of grimy walls and smoky ceiling. Cross lights from the six win- 
dows shine upon rows of desks of varying sizes and in varying 
stages of destruction. A kitchen table faces the door. Squarely 
in the middle of the rough pine floor stands a jacketed stove. A 
much torn dictionary and a dented water pail stand side by side 
on the shelf below the one blackboard . 

And this is the ''Httle red schoolhouse" to which I looked for- 
ward so eagerly during the summer — nothing but a tumble- 
down shack set in the heart of a prosperous farming district. 



HOW TO BEGIN 141 

(4) 

{New York Tribune) 

THE ONE WOMAN OFFICIAL AT PLATTSBURG 

By ELENE foster 

The tramp, tramp of feet on a hard road; long lines of khaki 
figures moving over the browning grass of the parade ground; 
rows of faces, keen and alert, with that look in the eyes that one 
sees in LePage's Jeanne d'Arc; the click, cHck of bullets from the 
distant rifle range blended with a chorus of deep voices near at 
hand singing ''Over There"; a clear, blue sky, crisp autumn air 
and the sparkling waters of Lake Champlain — that's Plattsburg. 

(5) 

{Good Housekeeping) 

NEW ENGLAND MILL SLAVES 

By MARY ALDEN HOPKINS 

In the pale light of an early winter morning, while a flat, white 
moon awaited the dawn and wind-driven clouds flung faint scud- 
ding shadows across the snow, two little girls, cloaked, shawled, 
hooded out of all recognition, plodded heavily along a Vermont 
mountain road. Each carried a dangling dinner pail. 

The road was lonely. Once they passed a farmhouse, asleep 
save for a yellow light in a chamber. Somewhere a cock crowed. 
A dog barked in the faint distance. 

Where the road ascended the mountain — a narrow cut be- 
tween dark, pointed firs and swaying white-limbed birches — the 
way was slushy with melting snow. The littler girl, half dozing 
along the accustomed way, slipped and slid into puddles. 

At the top of the mountain the two children shrank back into 
their mufflers, before the sweep of the wet, chill wind; but the mill 
was in sight — beyond the slope of bleak pastures outlined with 
stone walls — sunk deep in the valley beside a rapid mountain 
stream, a dim bulk already glimmering with points of light. To- 
ward this the two little workwomen slopped along on squashy 
feet. 

They were spinners. One was fifteen. She had worked three 



142 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

years. The other was fourteen. She had worked two years. 
The terse record of the National Child Labor Committee Ues be- 
fore me, unsentimental, bare of comment: 

^'They both get up at four fifteen a. m. and after breakfast 
start for the mill, arriving there in time not to be late, at six. 
Their home is two and one-half miles from the mill. Each earns 
three dollars a week — So they cannot afford to ride. The road is 
rough, and it is over the mountains." 



(6) 

{Providence Journal) 

HOW TO SING THE NATIONAL SONGS 

" ^ To Interpret the Text Successfully the Singer 
Must Memorize, Visualize, Rhythmize, 
and Emphasize 

By JOHN G. ARCHER 

The weary eye of the toastmaster looks apologetically down 
long rows of tables as he says with a sorry-but-it-must-be-done 
air, "We will now sing 'The Star Spangled Banner'"; the orches- 
tra starts, the diners reach frantically for their menus and each, 
according to his musical inheritance and patriotic fervor, plunges 
into the unknown with a resolute determination to be in on the 
death of the sad rite. 

Some are wrecked among the dizzy altitudes, others persevere 
through uncharted shoals, all make some kind of a noisy noise, 
and lo, it is accomplished; and intense relief sits enthroned on 
every dewy brow. 

In the crowded church, the minister announces the "Battle 
Hjmoin of the Republic," and the organist, armed with plenary 
powers, crashes into the giddy old tune, dragging the congrega- 
tion resistingly along at a hurdy gurdy pace till all semblance of 
text or meaning is irretrievably lost. 

Happy are they when the refrain, "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah," 
provides a temporary respite from the shredded syllables and 
scrambled periods, and one may light, as it were, and catch up 
with himself and the organist. 

At the close of an outdoor public meeting the chairman, with 
fatuous ineptitude, shouts that everybody will sing three verses of 



HOW TO BEGIN 143 

"America." Granting that the tune is pitched comfortably, the 
first verse marches with vigor and certitude, but not for long; dis- 
may soon smites the crowd in sections as the individual con- 
sciousness backs and fills amid half learned lines. 

The trick of catching hopefully at a neighbor's phrase usually 
serves to defeat itself, as it unmasks the ignorance of said neigh- 
bor, and the tune ends in a sort of polyglot mouthing which is not 
at all flattering to the denizens of an enlightened community. 

These glimpses are not a whit over-drawn, and it is safe to say 
that they mirror practically every corner of our land to-day. 
Why is it, then, that the people make such a sorry exhibition of 
themselves when they attempt to sing the patriotic songs of our 
country? Is it the tunes or the words or we ourselves ? 

Beginning with a Striking Statement. When the thought 
expressed in the first sentence of an article is sufficiently 
unusual, or is presented in a sufficiently striking form, 
it at once commands attention. By stimulating interest 
and curiosity, it leads the average person to read on until 
he is satisfied. 

A striking statement of this sort may serve as the first 
sentence of one of the other types of beginning, such as 
the narrative or the descriptive introduction, the quota- 
tion, the question, or the direct address. But it may also 
be used entirely alone. 

Since great size is impressive, a statement of the magni- 
tude of something is usually striking. Numerical figures 
are often used in the opening sentences to produce the im- 
pression of enormous size. If these figures are so large that 
the mind cannot grasp them, it is well, by means of com- 
parisons, to translate them into terms of the reader's own 
experience. There is always danger of overwhelming and 
confusing a person with statistics that in the mass mean 
little or nothing to him. 

To declare in the first sentence that something is the 
first or the only one of its kind immediately arrests atten- 
tion, because of the universal interest in the unique. 

An unusual prediction is another form of striking state- 
ment. To be told at the beginning of an article of some 



144 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

remarkable thing that the future holds in store for him or 
for his descendants, fascinates the average person as much 
as does the fortune-teller's prophecy. There is danger of 
exaggeration, however, in making predictions. When 
writers magnify the importance of their subject by assur- 
ing us that what they are explaining will " revolutionize " 
our ideas and practices, we are inchned to discount these 
exaggerated and trite forms of prophecy. 

A striking figure of speech — an unusual metaphor, for 
example — may often be used in the beginning of an arti- 
cle to arouse curiosity. As the comparison in a metaphor 
is implied rather than expressed, the points of likeness may 
not immediately be evident to the reader and thus the fig- 
urative statement piques his curiosity, A comparison in 
the form of a simile, or in that of a parable or allegory, may 
serve as a striking introduction. 

A paradox, as a self-contradictory statement, arrests 
the attention in the initial sentence of an article. Al- 
though not always easy to frame, and hence not so often 
employed as it might be, a paradoxical expression is an ex- 
cellent device for a writer to keep in mind when some phase 
of his theme lends itself to such a striking beginning. 

Besides these readily classified forms of unusual state- 
ments, any novel, extraordinary expression that is not too 
bizarre may be employed. The chief danger to guard 
against is*that of making sensational, exaggerated, or false 
statements, merely to catch the reader's notice. 

Striking Statement Beginnings 
(1) 

(Illustrated World) 

FIRE WRITES A HEART'S RECORD 

By H. G. hunting 

A HUMAN heart, writing its own record with an actual finger of 
flame, is the startling spectacle that has recently been witnessed by 
scientists. It sounds fanciful, does n't it? But it is literally a fact 



HOW TO BEGIN 145 

that the automatic recording of the heart's action by means of 
tracings from the point of a tiny blaze appears to have been made 
a practicable method of determining the condition of the heart, 
more reliable than any other test that can be applied. 

(2) 

(Boston Transcript) 

TAKING HOSPITALS TO THE EMERGENCY 

By F. W. COBURN 

Taking the hospital to the emergency instead of the emergency 
to the hospital is the underlying idea of the Bay State's newest 
medical unit — one which was installed in three hours on the top 
of Corey Hill, and which in much less than half that time may to- 
morrow or the next day be en route post haste for Peru, Plymouth, 
or Pawtucketville. 

(3) 

(Kansas City Star) 

MUST YOUR HOME BURN? 

Autumn is the season of burning homes. 

Furnaces and stoves will soon be lighted. They have been un- 
used all sunmier and rubbish may have been piled near them or 
the flues may have rusted and slipped out of place unobserved in 
the long period of disuse. Persons start their fires in a sudden 
cold snap. They don't take time to investigate. Then the fire 
department has work to do. 

(4) 

(New York Times) 

ONLY PUBLIC SCHOOL FOR CHILDREN WITH 
POOR EYES 

There was opened down Hester Street way last week the only 
public school in the world for children with defective eyes. Bad 
eyesight has been urged for years as a cause of backwardness and 
incorrigibility in school children. Now the public school author- 
ities plan, for the first time, not only to teach children whose eyes 
are defective, but to cure them as well. 



146 SPECUL FEATURE ARTICLES 

(5) 
{The Outlook) 

DISEASED TEETH AND BAD HEALTH 

By i\L\TTHL\S NICOLL, JR. 

The complete disappearance of teeth from the human mouth is 
the condition towards which the most highly cultivated classes of 
humanity are drifting. We have already gone far on a course 
that leads to the coming of a toothless age in future generations. 
Only by immediate adoption of the most active and widespread 
measures of prevention can the human tooth be saved from the 
fate that has befallen the leg of the whale. 

(6) 
(Harper's WeeJdy) 

THE SPAN OF LIFE 

By WALTER E. \^'EYL 

You who begin this sentence may not live to read its close. 
There is a chance, one in three or four billions, that you will die 
in a second, by the tick of the watch. The chair upon which you 
sit may collapse, the car in which you ride may colhde, your 
heart may suddenly cease. Or you may sur^-ive the sentence and 
the article, and live twenty, fifty, eighty years longer. 

No one knows the span of your life, and yet the insurance man 
is willing to bet upon it. TMiat is life insurance but the bet of an 
unkno^TL number of yearly premiums against the pajmient of the 
pohcy.^ * * * * The length of your indi^-idual life is a guess, but 
the insurance company bets on a sure thing, on the average death 
rate. 

(7) 
(The Outlook) 

"AMERICANS FIRST" 

By GREGORY MASON 

Every third man you meet in Detroit was bom in a foreign 
country. And three out of every four persons there were either 
bom abroad or born here of foreign-bom parents. In short, In 



HOW TO BEGIN 147 

Detroit, only every fourth person you meet was bom in this 
country of American parents. Such is the make-up of the town 
which has been called "the most American city in the United 
States." 

(8) 

(Kansas City Star) 

A KANSAS TOWN FEELS ITS OWN PULSE 

Lawrence, Kas., was not ill. Most of its citizens did not even 
think it was ailing, but there were some anxious souls who won- 
dered if the rosy exterior were not the mockery of an internal 
fever. They called in physicians, and after seven months spent 
in making their diagnosis, they have prescribed for Lawrence, and 
the town is alarmed to the point of taking their medicine. 

That is the medical way of saying that Lawrence has just com- 
pleted the most thorough municipal survey ever undertaken by a 
town of its size, and in so doing has found out that it is afflicted 
with a lot of ills that all cities are heir to. Lawrence, however, 
with Kansas progressiveness, proposes to cure these ills. 

Prof. F. W. Blackmar, head of the department of sociology at 
the University of Kansas, and incidentally a sort of city doctor, 
was the first "physician" consulted. He called his assistant. 
Prof. B. W. Burgess, and Rev. William A. Powell in consultation, 
and about one hundred and fifty club women were taken into the 
case. Then they got busy. That was April 1 . This month they 
completed the examination, set up an exhibit to illustrate what 
they had to report, and read the prescription. 

(9) 

(Popular Science Monthly) 

BREAKING THE CHAIN THAT BINDS US TO 
EARTH 

By CHARLES NEVERS HOLMES 

Man is chained to this Earth, his planet home. His chain is in- 
visible, but the ball is always to be seen — the Earth itself. The 
chain itself is apparently without weight, while the chain's ball 
weighs about 7,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 tons! 



148 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

(10) 

{Associated Sunday Magazine) 

IN TUNE WHEN OUT OF TUNE 

By JOHN WARREN 

How many persons who own pianos and play them can explain 
why a piano cannot be said to be in tune unless it is actually out 
of tune? 

(11) 
{Railroad Man's Magazine) 

MAKING STEEL RAILS 

By CHARLES FREDERICK CARTER 

To make steel rails, take 2 pounds of iron ore, 1 pound of coke, 
§ pound of limestone, and 4^ pounds of air for each pound of iron 
to be produced. Mix and melt, cast in molds, and roll to shape 
while hot. Serve cold. 

Rail-making certainly does seem to be easy when stated in its 
simplest terms; it also seems attractive from a business stand- 
point. 

(12) 
{Leslie's Weekly) 

WHAT ELECTRICITY MEANS TO YOU 



ONE CENT'S WORTH OF ELECTRICITY AT TEN 
CENTS PER KILOWATT-HOUR WILL OPERATE: 

Sixteen candle-power Mazda lamp for five hours 

Six pound flatiron 15 minutes 

Radiant toaster long enough to produce ten slices of toast 

Sewing machine for two hours 

Fan 12 inches in diameter for two hours 

Percolator long enough to make five cups of coffee 

Heating pad from two to four hours 

Domestic buffer for 1 J hours 

Chafing dish 12 minutes 

Radiant grill for 10 minutes 

Curling iron once a day for two weeks 

Luminous 500 watt radiator for 12 minutes 



HOW TO BEGIN 149 

Hardly as old as a grown man, the electrical industry — in- 
cluding railways, telephones and telegraphs — has already in- 
vested $8,125,000,000 in the business of America. Its utility 
companies alone pay Uncle Sam $200,000,000 every year for taxes 
— seven out of every ten use it in some form every day. It is un- 
mistakably the most vital factor to-day in America's prosperity. 
Its resources are boundless. As Secretary of the Interior Lane ex- 
presses it, there is enough hydro-electric energy running to waste 
to equal the daily labor of 1,800,000,000 men or 30 times our adult 
population. 

Beginning with a Quotation. Words enclosed in quota- 
tion marks or set off in some distinctive form such as verse, 
an advertisement, a letter, a menu, or a sign, immediately 
catch the eye at the beginning of an article. Every con- 
ceivable source may be drawn on for quotations, provided, 
of course, that what is quoted has close connection with 
the subject. If the quotation expresses an extraordinary 
idea, it possesses an additional source of interest. 

Verse quotations may be taken from a well-known poem, 
a popular song, a nursery rhyme, or even doggerel verse. 
Sometimes a whole poem or song prefaces an article. 
When the verse is printed in smaller type than the article, 
it need not be enclosed in quotation marks. In his type- 
written manuscript a writer may indicate this difference in 
size of type by single-spacing the lines of the quotation. 

Prose quotations may be taken from a speech or an in- 
terview, or from printed material such as a book, report, or 
bulletin. The more significant the quoted statement, the 
more effective will be the introduction. When the quota- 
tion consists of several sentences or of one long sentence, it 
may comprise the first paragraph, to be followed in the 
second paragraph by the necessary explanation. 

Popular sayings, slogans, or current phrases are not al- 
ways enclosed in quotation marks, but are often set off in a 
separate paragraph as a striking form of beginning. 

The most conspicuous quotation beginnings are repro- 
ductions of newspaper clippings, advertisements, price 
lists, menus, telegrams, invitations, or parts of legal docu- 



150 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

ments. These are not infrequently reproduced as nearly 
as possible in the original form and may be enclosed in a 
frame, or ^'box." 

Quotation Beginnings 

(1) 

{New York Evening Post) 

"DIGNIFIED AND STATELY" 

Being an Account of Some High and Low Jinks 
Practiced About This Time on College Class Days 

By EVA ELISE VOM BAUR 

Our sorrows are forgotten, 

And our cares are flown away, 

While we go marching through Princeton. 

Singing these words, 'round and ^ round the campus they 
marched, drums beating time which no one observed, band clash- 
ing with band, ui tune with nothing but the dominant note — the 
joy of reunion. A motley lot of men they are — sailors and trac- 
tion engineers, Pierrots, soldiers, and even vestal virgins — for 
the June Commencement is college carnival time. 

Then hundreds upon thousands of men, East, West, North and 
South, drop their work and their worries, and leaving families and 
creditors at home, slip away to their respective alma maters, 
"just to be boys again" for a day and a night or two. 

(2) 
(Harper^s Monthly) ' 

THE PARTY OF THE THIRD PART 

By WALTER E. WEYL 

"The quarrel," opined Sir Lucius O'Trigger, "is a ver}'' pretty 
quarrel as it stands ; we should only spoil it by trying to explain it." 

Something like this was once the attitude of the swaggering 
youth of Britain and Ireland, who quarreled "genteelly" and 
fought out their bloody duels "in peace and quietness." Some- 
thing like this, also, after the jump of a century, was the attitude 
of employers and trade-unions all over the world toward Indus- 



HOW TO BEGIN 151 

trial disputes. Words were wasted breath; the time to strike or to 
lock out your employees was when you were ready and your op- 
ponent was not. If you won, so much the better; if you lost — at 
any rate, it was your own business. Outsiders were not pre- 
sumed to interfere. "Faith!" exclaimed Sir Lucius, "that same 
interruption in affairs of this nature shows very great ill-breeding.'* 

(3) 

{McClure's Magazine) 

RIDING ON BUBBLES 

By WALDEMAR KAEMPFFERT 

"And the Prince sped away with his princess in a magic chariot, 
the wheels of which were four bubbles of air." 

Suppose you had read that in an Andersen or a Grimm fairy 
tale in the days when you firmly believed that Cinderella went to 
a ball in a state coach which had once been a pumpkin; you would 
have accepted the magic chariot and its four bubbles of air with- 
out question. 

What a pity it is that we have lost the credulity and the wonder 
of childhood! We have our automobiles — over two and a half 
million of them — but they have ceased to be magic chariots to us. 
And as for their tires, they are mere "shoes" and " tubes" — any- 
thing but the bubbles of air that they are. 

In the whole mechanism of modern transportation there is noth- 
ing so paradoxical, nothing so daring in conception as these same 
bubbles of air which we call tires. 

(4) 

{Good Housekeeping) 

GERALDINE FARRAR'S ADVICE TO ASPIRING 
SINGERS 

Interview By JOHN CORBIN 

"When did I first decide to be an opera singer?" Miss Farrar 
smiled. " Let me see. At least as early as the age of eight. This 
is how I remember. At school I used to get good marks in most 
of my studies, but in arithmetic my mark was about sixty. That 
made me unhappy. But once when I was eight, I distinctly re- 



152 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

member, I reflected that it did n't really matter because I was go- 
ing to be an opera singer. How long before that I had decided on 
my career I can't say." 

(5) 
{The Delineator) 

HOW TO START A CAFETERIA 

By AGNES ATHOL 

"If John could only get a satisfactory lunch for a reasonable 
amount of money!" sighs the wife of John in every sizable city in 
the United States, where work and home are far apart. 

"He hates sandwiches, anyway, and has no suitable place to 
eat them; and somehow he does n't feel that he does good work on 
a cold box lunch. But those clattery quick-lunch places which are 
all he has time for, or can afford, don't have appetizing cooking 
or surroundings, and all my forethought and planning over our 
good home meals may be counteracted by his miserable lunch. I 
believe half the explanation of the 'tired business man' lies in the 
kind of lunches he eats." 

Twenty-five cents a day is probably the outside limit of what 
the great majority of men spend on their luncheons. Some can- 
not spend over fifteen. What a man needs and so seldom gets for 
that sum is good, wholesome, appetizing food, quickly served. 
He wants to eat in a place which is quiet and not too bare and 
ugly. He wants to buy real food and not table decorations. He 
is willing to dispense with elaborate service and its accompanying 
tip, if he can get more food of better quality. 

The cafeteria lunch-room provides a solution for the mid-day 
lunch problem and, when wisely located and well run, the answer 
to many a competent woman or girl who is asking: "What shall I 
do to earn a hving.?" 

(6) 

■ {Newspaper Enterprise Association) 

AMERICANIZATION OF AMERICA IS PLANNED 

By E. C. RODGERS 

Washington, D. C. — America Americanized! 

That's the goal of the naturalization bureau of the United 



HOW TO BEGIN 153 

States department of labor, as expressed by Raymond F. Crist, 
deputy commissioner, in charge of the Americanization program. 



(7) 

(Tractor and Gas Engine Review) 

FIRE INSURANCE THAT DOESN'T INSURE 

By a. B. brown 

"This entire policy, unless otherwise provided by agreement en- 
dorsed hereon, or added hereto, shall be void if the interest of the 
insured be other than unconditional and sole ownership." 

If any farmer anywhere in the United States will look up the 
fire insurance policy on his farm building, and will read it carefully, 
in nine cases out of ten, he will find tucked away somewhere therein 
a clause exactly like the one quoted above, or practically in the 
same words. 

Beginning with a Question. Every question is like a 
riddle; we are never satisfied until we know the answer. 
So a question put to us at the beginning of an article piques 
our curiosity, and we are not content until we find out how 
the writer answers it. 

Instead of a single question, several may be asked in suc- 
cession. These questions may deal with different phases 
of the subject or may repeat the first question in other 
words. It is frequently desirable to break up a long ques- 
tion into a number of short ones to enable the rapid reader 
to grasp the idea more easily. Greater prominence may be 
gained for each question by giving it a separate paragraph. 

Rhetorical questions, although the equivalent of affirma- 
tive or negative statements, nevertheless retain enough of 
their interrogative effect to be used advantageously for the 
beginning of an article. 

That the appeal may be brought home to each reader 
personally, the pronoun '' you," or " yours," is often em- 
bodied in the question, and sometimes readers are ad- 
dressed by some designation such as " Mr. Average 



154 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Reader/^ " Mrs. Voter," " you, high school boys and girls." 
The indirect question naturally lacks the force of the 
direct one, but it may be employed when a less striking form 
of beginning is desired. The direct question, " Do you 
know why the sky is blue? " loses much of its force when 
changed into the indirect form, " Few people know why 
the sky is blue "; still it possesses enough of the riddle ele- 
ment to stimulate thought. Several indirect questions 
may be included in the initial sentence of an article. 



Question Beginnings 

(1) 

(Kansas City Star) 

TRACING THE DROUTH TO ITS LAIR 

What becomes of the rainfall in the plains states.'^ This region 
is the veritable bread basket of our country; but in spite of the 
fact that we have an average rainfall of about thirty-six inches, 
lack of moisture, more frequently than any other condition, be- 
comes a limiting factor in crop production. Measured in terms 
of wheat production, a 36-inch rainfall, if properly distributed 
through the growing season and utilized only by the crop growing 
land, is sufficient for the production of ninety bushels of wheat an 
acre. The question as to what becomes of the rainfall, therefore, 
is of considerable interest in this great agricultural center of North 
America, where we do well if we average twenty-five bushels to 
the acre. 

(2) 

(New York Evening Sun) 

WE WASTE ONE-QUARTER OF OUR FOOD 

If a family of five using twenty-five bushels of potatoes a year 
at S2 a bushel, lose 20 per cent on a bushel by paring, how much 
has the family thrown into the garbage can during the year? An- 
swer, SIO. Applying this conservative estimate of dietitians to 
other foods, the average family might save at least SlOO a year on 
its table. 



HOW TO BEGIN 163 

(3) 

{New York Times) 

FARM WIZARD ACHIEVES AGRICULTURAL 
WONDERS 

By ROBERT G. SKERRETT 

Can a farm be operated like a factory? Can fickle nature be 
offset and crops be brought to maturity upon schedule time? 

These are questions that a farmer near Bridgeton, N. J., has an- 
swered in the most practical manner imaginable. 

(4) 
{San Francisco Call) 

DOES IT PAY THE STATE TO EDUCATE 
PRETTY GIRLS FOR TEACHERS? 

By KATHERINE ATKINSON 

Does it pay the state to educate its teachers? 

Do normal school and university graduates continue teaching 
long enough to make adequate return for the money invested in 
their training? 

(5) 

{Newspaper Feature Service) 

HOW HUNGER IS NOW MEASURED AND 
PHOTOGRAPHED 

Just what hunger is, why all living creatures suffer this feeling 
and what the difference is between hunger and appetite have al- 
ways been three questions that puzzled scientists. Not until 
Dr. A. J. Carlson devised a method of ascertaining exactly the na- 
ture of hunger by measuring and comparing the degrees of this 
sensation, have investigators along this line of scientific research 
been able to reach any definite conclusion. 



156 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

(6) 

{The Outlook) 

GROW OLD ALONG WITH ME 

By CHARLES HENRY LERRIGO 

Are you interested in adding fifteen years to your life? 

Perhaps you are one of those sound strong persons absolutely 
assured of perfect health. 

Very well. Two thousand young persons, mostly men, average 
age thirty, employees of commercial houses and banks in New 
York City, were given a medical examination in a recent period of 
six months; 1,898 of them were positive of getting a perfect bill of 
health. 

Here are the findings: 

Sixty-three were absolutely sound. 

The remaining 1,937 all suffered from some defect, great or 
small, which was capable of improvement. 

(7) 

{Country Gentleman) 

SIMPLE ACCOUNTS FOR FARM BUSINESS 

By MORTON O. COOPER 

Is your farm making money or losing it? What department is 
showing a profit ? What one is pihng up a loss? Do you know? 
Not one farmer in ten does know and it is all because not one in 
ten has any accounts apart from his bankbook so he can tell at 
the end of the year whether he has kept the farm or the farm has 
kept him. 

(8) 

{The Outlook) 

AN ENFORCED VACATION 

By A CITY DWELLER 

Have you, my amiable male reader, felt secretly annoyed when 
your friends — probably your wife and certainly your physician 
— have suggested that you cut your daily diet of Havanas in two, 



HOW TO BEGIN 157 

feeling that your intimate acquaintance with yourself constituted 
you a better judge of such matters than they? Have you felt 
that your physician's advice to spend at least three-quarters of an 
hour at lunch was good advice for somebody else, but that you 
had neither time nor inclination for it? Have you felt that you 
would like to take a month's vacation, but with so many "irons 
in the fire" things would go to smash if you did? Do you know 
what it is to lie awake at night and plan your campaign for the 
following day? Then you are getting ready for an enforced va- 
cation. 

(9) 

{Leslie^ s Weekly) 

TAKING THE STARCH OUT OF THE MARCH 

Bt GERALD MYGATT 

Don't most of us — that is, those of us who are unfamiliar with 
army life and with things military in general — don't most of us 
picture marching troops as swinging down a road in perfect step, 
left arms moving in unison, rifles held smartly at the right shoul- 
der, head and eyes straight to the front (with never so much as a 
forehead wrinkled to dislodge a mosquito or a fly), and with the 
band of the fife-and-drum corps playing gaily at the head of the 
column? Of course we do. Because that's the way we see them 
on parade. 

A march is a far different thing. A march is simply the means 
of getting so many men from one place to another in the quickest 
time and in the best possible condition. And it may astonish one 
to be told that marching is the principal occupation of troops in 
the field — that it is one of the hardest things for troops to learn 
to do properly, and that it is one of the chief causes of loss. 

Addressing the Reader Directly. A direct personal ap- 
peal makes a good opening for an article. The writer 
seems to be talking to each reader individually instead of 
merely writing for thousands. This form of address may 
seem to hark back to the days of the '^ gentle reader," but 
its appeal is perennial. To the pronoun *' you " may be 
added the designation of the particular class of readers 



158 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

addressed, such as *' You, mothers," or '' You, Mr. Salaried 
Man." The imperative verb is perhaps the strongest form 
of direct address. There is danger of overdoing the " do- 
this-and-don't-do-that " style, particularly in articles of 
practical guidance, but that need not deter a writer from 
using the imperative beginning occasionally. 

Direct Address Beginnings 

(1) 

{New York Times) 

SMALL CHANCE FOR DRAFT DODGERS IF 
DOCTORS KNOW THEIR BUSINESS 

A WORD with you, Mr. Would-Be-Slacker. If you're thinking (A 
trying to dodge the selective draft by pretending physical disa- 
bility when you get before the local exemption board, here's a bit 
of advice : Don't. Since you are Mr. Would-Be-Slacker there is no 
use preaching patriotism to you. But here is something that will 
influence you : If you try to dodge the draft and are caught, there 
is a heavy penalty, both fine and imprisonment; and you're almost 
sure to get caught. 

(2) 

(American Magazine) 

THE GENERAL MANAGER OF 
COWBELL "HOLLER" 

By BRUCE BARTON 

You would never in the world find Cowbell "Holler" alone, so 
I will tell you how to get there. You come over the Big Hill 
pike until you reach West Pinnacle. It was from the peak of West 
Pinnacle that Daniel Boone first looked out over the blue grass 
region of Kentucky. You follow the pike around the base of the 
Pinnacle, and there you are, right in the heart of Cowbell " Holler," 
and only two pastures and a creek away from Miss Adelia Fox's 
rural social settlement — the first of its kind, so far as I know, in 
America. 



HOW TO BEGIN 139 

(3) 

(Chicago Tribune) 

THE ROAD TO RETAIL SUCCESS 

By benjamin H. JEFFERSON 

You all know the retail druggist who has worked fifteen or six- 
teen hours a day all his life, and now, as an old man, is forced to 
discharge his only clerk. You all know the grocer who has changed 
from one store to another and another, and who finally turns up as 
a collector for your milkman. You all know the hard working 
milliner and, perhaps, have followed her career until she was lost 
to sight amid sickness and distress. You all have friends among 
stationers and newsdealers. You have seen them labor day in and 
day out, from early morning until late at night ; and have observed 
with sorrow the small fruits of their many years of toil. 

Why did they fail? 

(4) 

{Illustrated Sunday Magazine) 

THE MAN WHO PUT THE "PEP" IN PRINTING 

Look at your watch. 

How long is a second? Gone as you look at the tiny hand, 
is n't it? Yet within that one second it is possible to print, cut, 
fold and stack sixteen and two-thirds newspapers! 

Watch the second hand make one revolution — a minute. 
Within that minute it is possible to print, cut, fold and stack in 
neat piles one thousand big newspapers! To do that is putting 
"pep" in printing, and Henry A. Wise Wood is the man who 
did it. 



CHAPTER VIII 
STYLE 

Style Defined. Style, or the manner in which ideas and 
emotions are expressed, is as important in special feature 
writing as it is in any other kind of literary work. A 
writer may select an excellent subject, may formulate a 
definite purpose, and may choose the type of article best 
suited to his needs, but if he is unable to express his 
thoughts effectively, his article will be a failure. Style is 
not to be regarded as mere ornament added to ordinary 
forms of expression. It is not an incidental element, but 
rather the fundamental part of all literary composition, 
the means by which a writer transfers what is in his own 
mind to the minds of his readers. It is a vehicle for con- 
veying ideas and emotions. The more easily, accurately, 
and completely the reader gets the author^s thoughts and 
feelings, the better is the style. 

The style of an article needs to be adapted both to the 
readers and to the subject. An article for a boys' maga- 
zine would be written in a style different from that of a 
story on the same subject intended for a Sunday news- 
paper. The style appropriate to an entertaining story on 
odd superstitions of business men would be unsuitable for a 
popular exposition of wireless telephony. In a word, the 
style of a special article demands as careful consideration 
as does its subject, purpose, and structure. 

Since it may be assumed that any one who aspires to 
write for newspapers and magazines has a general knowl- 
edge of the principles of composition and of the elements 
and qualities of style, only such points of style as are im- 
portant in special feature writing will be discussed in this 
chapter. 

The elements of style are: (1) words, (2) figures of 
speech, (3) sentences, and (4) paragraphs. The kinds of 



STYLE 161 

words, figures, sentences, and paragraphs used, and the 
way in which they are combined, determine the style. 

Words. In the choice of words for popular articles, 
three points are important: (1) only such words may be 
used as are familiar to the average person, (2) concrete 
terms make a much more definite impression than general 
ones, and (3) words that carry with them associated ideas 
and feelings are more effective than words that lack such 
intellectual and emotional connotation. 

The rapid reader cannot stop to refer to the dictionary 
for words that he does not know. Although the special 
feature writer is limited to terms familiar to the average 
reader, he need not confine himself to commonplace, collo- 
quial diction; most readers know the meaning of many 
more words than they themselves use in everyday conver- 
sation. In treating technical topics, it is often necessary 
to employ some unfamihar terms, but these may readily 
be explained the first time they appear. Whenever the 
writer is in doubt as to whether or not his readers will un- 
derstand a certain term, the safest course is to explain it or 
to substitute one that is sure to be understood. 

Since most persons grasp concrete ideas more quickly 
than abstract ones, specific words should be given the 
preference in popular articles. To create concrete images 
must be the writer's constant aim. Instead of a general 
term like " walk,'' for example, he should select a specific, 
picture-making word such as hurry, dash, run, race, amble, 
stroll, stride, shuffle, shamble, limp, strut, stalk. For the 
word '^ horse " he may substitute a definite term Hke sor- 
rel, bay, percheron, nag, charger, steed, broncho, or pony. 
In narrative and descriptive writing particularly, it is 
necessary to use words that make pictures and that repro- 
duce sounds and other sense impressions. In the effort to 
make his diction specific, however, the writer must guard 
against bizarre effects and an excessive use of adjectives 
and adverbs. Verbs, quite as much as nouns, adjectives, and 
adverbs, produce clear, vivid images when skillfully handled. 

Some words carry with them associated ideas and emo- 



162 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

tions, while others do not. The feehngs and ideas thus 
associated with words constitute their emotional and in- 
tellectual connotation, as distinct from their logical mean- 
ing, or denotation. The word " home," for example, de- 
notes simply one's place of residence, but it connotes all 
the thoughts and feelings associated with one's own house 
and family circle. Such a word is said to have a rich emo- 
tional connotation because it arouses strong feeling. It 
also has a rich intellectual connotation since it calls up 
many associated images. Words and phrases that are pe- 
culiar to the Bible or to the church service carry with them 
mental images and emotions connected with religious wor- 
ship. In a personality sketch of a spiritual leader, for ex- 
ample, such words and phrases would be particularly effec- 
tive to create the atmosphere with which such a man might 
very appropriately be invested. Since homely, colloquial 
expressions have entirely different associations, they would 
be entirely out of keeping with the tone of such a sketch, 
unless the rehgious leader were an unconventional revival- 
ist. A single word with the wrong connotation may seri- 
ously affect the tone of a paragraph. On the other hand, 
words and phrases rich in appropriate suggestion heighten 
immeasurably the effectiveness of an article. 

The value of concrete words is shown in the following 
paragraphs taken from a newspaper article describing a 
gas attack: 

There was a faint green vapor, which swayed and hung under 
the lee of the raised parapet two hundred yards away. It increased 
in volume, and at last rose high enough to be caught by the wind. 
It strayed out in tattered yellowish streamers toward the English 
lines, half dissipating itself in twenty yards, until the steady out- 
pour of the green smoke gave it reinforcement and it made head- 
way. Then, creeping forward from tuft to tuft, and preceded by 
an acrid and parching whiff, the curling and tumbling vapor 
reached the English lines in a wall twenty feet high. 

As the grayish cloud drifted over the parapet, there was a 
stifled call from some dozen men who had carelessly let their pro- 
tectors drop. The gas was terrible. A breath of it was like a 
wolf at the throat, like hot ashes in the windpipe. 



STYLE 163 

The yellowish waves of gas became more greenish in color aa 
fresh volumes poured out continually from the squat iron cylinders 
which had now been raised and placed outside the trenches by the 
Germans. The translucent flood flowed over the parapet, linking 
at once on the inner side and forming vague, gauzy pools and 
backwaters, in which men stood knee deep while the lighter gas 
was blown in their faces over the parapet. 

Faults in Diction. Since newspaper reporters and cor- 
respondents are called upon day after day to write on simi- 
lar events and to write at top speed, they are prone to use 
the same words over and over again, without making much 
of an effort to " find the one noun that best expresses the 
idea, the one verb needed to give it Hfe, and the one adjec- 
tive to quahfy it." This tendency to use trite, general, 
" woolly " words instead of fresh, concrete ones is not in- 
frequently seen in special feature stories written by news- 
paper workers. Every writer who aims to give to his arti- 
cles some distinction in style should guard against the dan- 
ger of writing what has aptly been termed " jargon." " To 
write jargon," says Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch in his book, 
" On the Art of Writing," "is to be perpetually shuflfling 
around in the fog and cotton-wool of abstract terms. So 
long as you prefer abstract words, which express other 
men's summarized concepts of things, to concrete ones 
which lie as near as can be reached to things themselves 
and are the first-hand material for your thoughts, you will 
remain, at the best, writers at second-hand. If your lan- 
guage be jargon, your intellect, if not your whole charac- 
ter, will almost certainly correspond. Where your mind 
should go straight, it will dodge; the diflSculties it should 
approach with a fair front and grip with a firm hand it will 
be seeking to evade or circumvent. For the style is the 
man, and where a man's treasure is there his heart, and his 
brain, and his writing, will be also." 

Figures of Speech. To most persons the term " figure 
of speech " suggests such figures as metonymy and syn- 
ecdoche, which they once learned to define, but never 
thought of using voluntarily in their own writing. Figures 



164 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

of speech are too often regarded as ornaments suited only 
to poetry or poetical prose. With these popular notions in 
mind, a writer for newspapers and magazines may quite 
naturally conclude that figurative expressions have httle 
or no practical value in his work. Figirres of speech, how- 
ever, are great aids, not only to clearness and conciseness, 
but to the vividness of an article. They assist the reader 
to grasp ideas quickly and they stimulate his imagination 
and his emotions. 

Association of ideas is the principle underlying figurative 
expressions. By a figure of speech a writer shows his read- 
ers the relation between a new idea and one aheady famil- 
iar to them. An unfamihar object, for example, is likened 
to a familiar one, directly, as in the simile, or by impHca- 
tion, as in the metaphor. As the object brought into rela- 
tion with the new idea is more familiar and more concrete, 
the effect of the figure is to simplify the subject that is be- 
ing explained, and to make it more easy of comprehension. 

A figure of speech makes both for conciseness and for 
economy of mental effort on the part of the reader. To 
say in a personality sketch, for example, that the person 
looks ^' like Lincoln " is the simplest, most concise way of 
creating a mental picture. Or to describe a smoothly run- 
ning electric motor as " purring," instantly makes the 
reader hear the sound. Scores of words may be saved, and 
clearer, more vivid impressions may be given, by the judi- 
cious use of figures of speech. 

As the familiar, concrete objects introduced in figures 
frequently have associated emotions, figurative expres- 
sions often make an emotional appeal. Again, to say that 
a person looks '' like Lincoln " not only creates a mental 
picture but awakes the feelings generally associated with 
Lincoln. The result is that readers are inclined to feel 
toward the person so described as they feel toward Lincoln. 

Even in practical articles, figurative diction may not be 
amiss. In explaining a method of sphtting old kitchen 
boilers in order to make watering troughs, a writer in a 
farm journal happily described a cold chisel as " turning 



STYLE 165 

out a narrow shaving of steel and rolling it away much as 
the mold-board of a plow turns the furrow." 

The stimulating effect of a paragraph abounding in fig- 
urative expressions is well illustrated by the following pas- 
sage taken from a newspaper personality sketch of a popu- 
lar pulpit orator: 

His mind is all daylight. There are no subtle half-tones, or 
sensitive reserves, or significant shadows of silence, no landscape 
fading through purple mists to a romantic distance. All is clear, 
obvious, emphatic. There is little atmosphere and a lack of that 
humor that softens the contours of controversy. His thought is 
simple and direct and makes its appeal, not to culture, but to the 
primitive emotions. * * * * His strenuousness is a battle-cry to the 
crowd. He keeps his passion white hot; his body works like a 
windmill in a hurricane; his eyes flash lightnings; he seizes the 
enemy, as it were, by the throat, pommels him with breathless 
blows, and throws him aside a miserable wreck. 

Sentences. For rapid reading the prime requisite of a 
good sentence is that its grammatical structure shall be 
evident; in other words, that the reader shall be able at a 
glance to see the relation of its parts. Involved sentences 
that require a second perusal before they yield their mean- 
ing, are clearly not adapted to the newspaper or magazine. 
Short sentences and those of medium length are, as a rule, , 
more easily grasped than long ones, but for rapid reading 
the structure of the sentence, rather than its length, is the 
chief consideration. Absolute clearness is of paramount 
importance. 

In hurried reading the eye is caught by the first group of 
words at the beginning of a sentence. These words make 
more of an impression on the reader's mind than do those 
in the middle or at the end of the sentence. In all journal- 
istic writing, therefore, the position of greatest emphasis is 
the beginning. It is there that the most significant idea 
should be placed. Such an arrangement does not mean 
that the sentence need trail off loosely in a series of phrases 
and clauses. Firmness of structure can and should be 
maintained even though the strongest emphasis is at the 



166 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

beginning. In revising his article a writer often finds 
that he may greatly increase the effectiveness of his sen- 
tences by so rearranging the parts as to bring the impor- 
tant ideas close to the beginning. 

Length of the Sentence. Sentences may be classified 
according to length as (1) short, containing 15 words or 
less; (2) medium, from 15 to 30 words; and (3) long, 30 
words or more. Each of these types of sentence has its 
own pecuHar advantages. 

The short sentence, because it is easily apprehended, is 
more emphatic than a longer one. Used in combination 
with medium and long sentences it gains prominence by 
contrast. It makes an emphatic beginning and a strong 
conclusion for a paragraph. As the last sentence of an 
article it is a good '' snapper." In contrast with longer state- 
ments, it also serves as a convenient transition sentence. 

The sentence of medium length lends itself readily to the 
expression of the average thought; but when used continu- 
ously it gives to the style a monotony of rhythm that soon 
becomes tiresome. 

The long sentence is convenient for grouping details that 
are closely connected. In contrast with the rapid, em- 
phatic short sentence, it moves slowly and deliberately, 
and so is well adapted to the expression of dignified and 
impressive thoughts. 

To prevent monotony, variety of sentence length is de- 
sirable. Writers who unconsciously tend to use sentences 
of about the same length and of the same construction, 
need to beware of this uniformity. 

The skillful use of single short sentences, of series of 
short sentences, of medium, and of long sentences, to give 
variety, to express thoughts effectively, and to produce 
harmony between the movement of the style and the ideas 
advanced, is well illustrated in the selection below. It is 
the beginning of a personality sketch of WilHam II, the 
former German emperor, pubUshed in the London Daily 
News before the world war, and written by Mr. A. G. 
Gardiner, the editor of that paper. 



STYLE 167 

When I think of the Kaiser I think of a bright May morning at 
Potsdam. It is the Spring Parade, and across from where we are 
gathered under the windows of the old palace the household 
troops are drawn up on the great parade ground, their helmets 
and banners and lances all astir in the jolly sunshine. Officers 
gallop hither and thither shouting commands. Regiments form 
and reform. Swords flash out and flash back again. A noble 
background of trees frames the gay picture with cool green foli- 
age. There is a sudden stillness. The closely serried ranks are 
rigid and moveless. The shouts of command are silenced. 

''The Kaiser." - 

He comes slowly up the parade ground on his white charger, 
helmet and eagle flashing in the sunshine, sitting his horse as if he 
lived in the saddle, his face turned to his men as he passes by. 

"Morgen, meine Kinder." His salutation rings out at inter- 
vals in the clear morning air. And back from the ranks in chorus 
comes the response: "Morgen, Majestat." 

And as he rides on, master of a million men, the most powerful 
figure in Europe, reviewing his troops on the peaceful parade 
ground at Potsdam, one wonders whether the day will ever come 
when he will ride down those ranks on another errand, and when 
that cheerful response of the soldiers will have in it the ancient 
ring of doom — "Te morituri salutamus." 

For answer, let us look at this challenging figure on the white 
charger. What is he? What has he done? 

By the three short sentences in the first paragraph be- 
ginning " Officers gallop," the author depicts the rapid 
movement of the soldiers. By the next three short sen- 
tences in the same paragraph beginning, " There is a sud- 
den stillness," he produces an impression of suspense. To 
picture the Kaiser coming up '' slowly," he uses a long, 
leisurely sentence. The salutations '' ring out " in short, 
crisp sentences. The more serious, impressive thought of 
the possibility of war finds fitting expression in the long, 
64- word sentence, ending with the sonorous " ring of 
doom," '' Te morituri salutamus." 

The transition between the introduction and the body of 
the sketch is accompHshed by the last paragraph consisting 
of three short sentences, in marked contrast with the cli- 
mactic effect with which the description closed. 



168 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Paragraphs. The paragraph is a device that aids a 
writer to convey to readers his thoughts combined in the 
same groups in which they are arranged in his own mind. 
Since a small group of thoughts is more easily grasped than 
a large one, paragraphs in journalistic writing are usually 
considerably shorter than those of ordinary EngHsh prose. 
In the narrow newspaper column, there is room for only 
five or six words to a line. A paragraph of 250 words, 
which is the average length of the literary paragraph, fills 
between forty and fifty fines of a newspaper column. Such 
paragraphs seem heavy and uninviting. Moreover, the 
casual reader cannot readily comprehend and combine the 
various thoughts in so large a group of sentences. Al- 
though there is no standard column width for magazines; 
the number of words in a line does not usually exceed eight, 
A paragraph of 250 words that occupies 30 eight-word lines 
seems less attractive than one of half that length. The 
normal paragraph in journalistic writing seldom exceeds 100 
words and not infrequently is much shorter. As such a para- 
graph contains not more than four or five sentences, the gen- 
eral reading public has little difficulty in comprehending it. 

The beginning of the paragraph, like the beginning of 
the sentence, is the part that catches the eye. Significant 
ideas that need to be impressed upon the mind of the reader 
belong at the beginning. If his attention is arrested and 
held by the first group of words, he is likely to read on. If 
the beginning does not attract him, he skips down the col- 
umn to the next paragraph, glancing merely at enough 
v/ords in the paragraph that he skips to '' get the drift of 
it." An emphatic beginning for a paragraph will insure 
attention for its contents. 

Revision. It is seldom that the first draft of an article 
cannot be improved by a careful revision. In going over 
his work, word by word and sentence by sentence, the 
writer will generally find many opportunities to increase 
the effectiveness of the structure and the style. Such re- 
vision, moreover, need not destroy the ease and natural- 
ness of expression. 



STYLE 169 

To improve the diction of his article, the writer should 
eliminate (1) superfluous words, (2) trite phrases, (3) gen- 
eral, colorless words, (4) terms unfamiliar to the average 
reader, unless they are explained, (5) words with a conno- 
tation inappropriate to the context, (6) hackneyed and 
mixed metaphors. The effectiveness of the expression 
may often be strengthened by the addition of specific, pic- 
ture-making, imitative, and connotative words, as well as 
of figures of speech that clarify the ideas and stimulate the 
imagination. 

Sentences may frequently be improved (1) by making 
their grammatical structure more evident, (2) by breaking 
up long, loose sentences into shorter ones, (3) by using 
short sentences for emphasis, (4) by varying the sentence 
length, (5) by transferring important ideas to the beginning 
of the sentence. 

Every paragraph should be tested to determine whether 
or not it is a unified, coherent group of thoughts, contain- 
ing not more than 100 words, with important ideas effec- 
tively massed at the beginning. 

Finally, revision should ehminate all errors in grammar, 
spelHng, punctuation, and capitalization. Every minute 
ispent in improving an article adds greatly to its chances of 
being accepted. 



CHAPTER IX 
TITLES AND HEADLINES 

Importance of Head and Title. Headlines or titles, il- 
lustrations, and names of authors are the three things that 
first catch the eye of the reader as he turns over the pages 
of a newspaper or magazine. When the writer's name is 
unknown to him, only the illustrations and the heading 
remain to attract his attention. 

The '' attention-getting '^ value of the headline is fully 
appreciated not only by newspaper and magazine editors 
but by writers of advertisements. Just as the striking 
heads on the front page of a newspaper increase its sales, 
so, also, attractive titles on the cover of a magazine lead 
people to buy it, and so, too, a good headhne in an adver- 
tisement arouses interest in what the advertiser is trying 
to sell. 

A good title adds greatly to the attractiveness of an arti- 
cle. In the first place, the title is the one thing that catches 
the eye of the editor or manuscript reader, as he glances 
over the copy, and if the title is good, he carries over this 
favorable impression to the first page or two of the article 
itself. To secure such favorable consideration for a manu- 
script among the hundreds that are examined in editorial 
offices, is no slight advantage. In the second place, what 
is true of the editor and the manuscript is equally true of 
the reader and the printed article. No writer can afford to 
neglect his titles. 

Variety in Form and Style. Because newspapers and 
magazines differ in the size and the " make-up " of their 
pages, there is considerable variety in the style of head- 
lines and titles given to special feature articles. Some 
magazine sections of newspapers have the full-size page of 
the regular edition; others have pages only half as large. 
Some newspapers use large eight-column display heads on 



TITLES AND HEADLINES 171 

their special articles, while others confine their headlines 
for feature stories to a column or two. Some papers regu- 
larly employ sub-titles in their magazine sections, corre- 
sponding to the "lines," ''banks," and ''decks" in their 
news headhnes. This variety in newspapers is matched 
by that in magazines. Despite these differences, however, 
there are a few general principles that apply to all kinds of 
titles and headhnes for special feature articles. 

Characteristics of a Good Title. To accompHsh their 
purpose most effectively titles should be (1) attractive, 
(2) accurate, (3) concise, and (4) concrete. 

The attractiveness of a title is measured by its power to 
arrest attention and to lead to a reading of the article. As 
a statement of the subject, the title makes essentially the 
same appeal that the subject itself does; that is, it may 
interest the reader because the idea it expresses has time- 
liness, novelty, elements of mystery or romance, human 
interest, relation to the reader's life and success, or con- 
nection with familiar or prominent persons or things. Not 
only the idea expressed, but the way in which it is ex- 
pressed, may catch the eye. By a figurative, paradoxical, 
or interrogative form, the title may pique curiosity. By 
alliteration, balance, or rhyme, it may please the ear. It 
permits the reader to taste, in order to whet his appetite. 
It creates desires that only the article can satisfy. 

In an effort to make his titles attractive, a writer must 
beware of sensationalism and exaggeration. The lurid 
news headhne on the front page of sensational papers has 
its counterpart in the equally sensational title in the Sun- 
day magazine section. All that has been said concerning 
unwholesome subject-matter for special feature stories ap- 
plies to sensational titles. So, too, exaggerated, mislead- 
ing headhnes on news and advertisements are matched by 
exaggerated, misleading titles on special articles. To state 
more than the facts warrant, to promise more than can be 
given, to arouse expectations that cannot be satisfied — all 
are departures from truth and honesty. 

Accuracy in titles involves, not merely avoidance of exag- 



172 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

gerated and misleading statement, but complete harmony 
in tone and spirit between title and article. When the 
story is familiar and colloquial in style, the title should re- 
flect that informality. When the article makes a serious 
appeal, the title should be dignified. A good title, in a 
word, is true to the spirit as well as to the letter. 

Conciseness in titles is imposed on the writer by the 
physical limitations of type and page. Because the width 
of the column and of the page is fixed, and because type is 
not made of rubber, a headhne must be built to fit the 
place it is to fill. Although in framing titles for articles it 
is not always necessary to conform to the strict require- 
ments as to letters and spaces that Hmit the building of 
news headUnes, it is nevertheless important to keep within 
bounds. A study of a large number of titles will show that 
they seldom contain more than three or four important 
words with the necessary connectives and particles. Short 
words, moreover, are preferred to long ones. By analyz- 
ing the titles in the publication to which he plans to send 
his article, a writer can frame his title to meet its typo- 
graphical requirements. 

The reader's limited power of rapid comprehension is 
another reason for brevity. A short title consisting of a 
small group of words yields its meaning at a glance. Un- 
less the reader catches the idea in the title quickly, he is 
likely to pass on to something else. Here again short 
words have an advantage over long ones. 

Concreteness in titles makes for rapid comprehension 
and interest. Clean-cut mental images are called up by 
specific words; vague ones usually result from general, ab- 
stract terms. Clear mental pictures are more interesting 
than vague impressions. 

Sub-titles. Sub-titles are often used to supplement and 
amplify the titles. They are the counterparts of the 
'* decks " and " banks " in news headhnes. Their purpose 
is to give additional information, to arouse greater inter- 
est, and to assist in carrying the reader over, as it were, to 
the beginning of the article. 



TITLES AND HEADLINES 173 

Since sub-titles follow immediately after the title, any 
repetition of important words is usually avoided. It is 
desirable to maintain the same tone in both title and sub- 
title. Occasionally the two together make a continuous 
statement. The length of the sub-title is generally about 
twice that of the title; that is, the average sub-title con- 
sists of from ten to twelve words, including articles and 
connectives. The articles, '' a,'* '' an," and ** the," are 
not as consistently excluded from sub-titles as they are 
from newspaper headlines. 

Some Types of Titles. Attempts to classify all kinds of 
headlines and titles involve difficulties similar to those al- 
ready encountered in the effort to classify all types of be- 
ginnings. Nevertheless, a separation of titles into fairly 
distinct, if not mutually exclusive, groups may prove help- 
ful to inexperienced writers. The following are the nine 
most distinctive types of titles: (1) label; (2) *' how " and 
*' why " statement; (3) striking statement, including figure 
of speech, paradox, and expression of great magnitude; 
(4) quotation and paraphrase of quotation; (5) question; 
(6) direct address, particularly in imperative form; (7) al- 
literation; (8) rhyme; (9) balance. 

The label title is a simple, direct statement of the sub- 
ject. It has only as much interest and attractiveness as 
the subject itself possesses. Such titles are the following: 

(1) 
RAISING GUINEA PIGS FOR A LIVING 

One Missouri Man Finds a Ready Market for All He Can Sell 

(2) 
HUMAN NATURE AS SEEN BY A PULLMAN PORTER 

(3) 
THE FINANCIAL SIDE OF FOOTBALL 

(4) 
CONFESSIONS OF AN UNDERGRADUATE 



174 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

(5) 
BEE-KEEPING ON SHARES 

(6) 
A COMMUNITY WOOD-CHOPPING DAY 

(7) 
WHAT A WOMAN ON THE FARM THINKS OF PRICE FIXING 

The " how-to-do-something '^ article may be given a 
" how " title that indicates the character of the contents; 
for example ij 

(1) 
HOW I FOUND HEALTH IN THE DENTIST'S CHAIR 

(2) 
HOW TO STORE YOUR CAR IN WINTER 

(3) 
HOW A FARMERS WIFE MADE $55 EXTRA 

(4) 

HOW TO SUCCEED AS A WRITER 

Woman Who ** Knew She Could Write " Tells How She Began and 

Finally Got on the Right Road 

The '' how " title may also be used for an article that ex- 
plains some phenomenon or process. Examples of such 
titles are these: 

(1) 
HOW A NETTLE STINGS 

(2) 
HOW RIPE OLIVES ARE MADE 

(3) 
HOW THE FREIGHT CAR GETS HOME 



TITLES AND HEADLINES 175 

Articles that undertake to give causes and reasons are 
appropriately given " why " titles like the following: 

(1) 
WHY CAVIAR COSTS SO MUCH 

(2) 
WHY I LIKE A ROUND BARN 

(3) 
WHY THE COAL SUPPLY IS SHORT 



A title may attract attention because of the striking 
character of the idea it expresses ; for example : 

(1) 
WANTED: $50,000 MEN 

(2) 
200 BUSHELS OF CORN PER ACRE 

(3) 
FIRE WRITES A HEART'S RECORD 

(4) 
THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SECOND HELPINGS 

The paradoxical form of title piques curiosity by seem- 
ing to make a self-contradictory statement, as, for exam- 
ple, the following: 

(1) 

SHIPS OF STONE 

Seaworthy Concrete Vessels an Accomplished Fact 

(2) 
CHRISTUN PAGANS 



176 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

(3) 
A TELESCOPE THAT POINTS DOWNWARD 

(4) 
SEEING WITH YOUR EARS 

(5) 
MAKING SAILORS WITHOUT SHIPS 

(6) 
HOW TO BE AT HOME WHILE TRAVELING 

(7) 
CANAL-BOATS THAT CLIMB HILLS 

A striking figure of speech in a title stimulates the read- 
er's imagination and arouses his interest; for example: 

(1) 
PULLING THE RIVER»S TEETH 

(2) 
THE OLD HOUSE WITH TWO FACES 

(3) 
THE HONEY-BEE SAVINGS BANK 

(4) 
RIDING ON BUBBLES 

(5) 
THE ROMANCE OF NITROGEN 

A familiar quotation may be used for the title and may 
stand alone, but often a sub-title is desirable to show the 
appUcation of the quotation to the subject, thus: 

(1) 

THE SHOT HEARD 'ROUND THE WORLD 

America's First Victory in France 



TITLES AND HEADLINES 177 

"ALL WOOL AND A YARD WIDE" 
What "All Wool" Really Means and Why Shoddy is Necessary 

(3) 

THE SERVANT IN THE HOUSE 

And Why She Won't Stay in the House 

A well-known quotation or common saying may be para- 
phrased in a novel way to attract attention; for example: 

(1) 
FORWARD! THE TRACTOR BRIGADE^ 

(2) 
IT 'S LO, THE RICH INDIAN 

(3) 
LEARNING BY UNDOING 

(4) 
THE GUILELESS SPIDER AND THE WILY FLY 
Entomology Modifies our Ideas of the Famous Parlor 

Since every question is like a riddle, a title in question 
form naturally leads the reader to seek the answer in the 
article itself. The directness of appeal may be heightened 
by addressing the question to the reader with " you," 
^' your," or by presenting it from the reader *s point of view 
with the use of " I," " we," or " ours." The sub-title may 
be another question or an affirmation, but should not at- 
tempt to answer the question. The following are typical 
question titles and sub-titles: 

(1) 
WHAT IS A FAIR PRICE FOR MILK? 

(2) 
HOW MUCH HEAT IS THERE IN YOUR COAL? 



178 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

(3) 

WHO'S THE BEST BOSS? 

Would You Rather Work For a Man or For a Machine? 

(4) 

«' SHE SANK BY THE BOW " — BUT WHY? 

(5) 
HOW SHALL WE KEEP WARM THIS WINTER? 

(6) 
DOES DEEP PLOWING PAY? 

What Some Recent Tests Have Demonstrated 

(7) 
SHALL I START A CANNING BUSINESS? 

The reader may be addressed in an imperative form of 
title, as well as in a question, as the following titles show; 

(1) 

BLAME THE SUN SPOTS 

Solar Upheavals That Make Mischief on the Earth 

(2) 

EAT SHARKS AND TAN THEIR SKINS 

(3) 
HOE I HOE! FOR UNCLE SAM 

(4) 

DON'T JUMP OUT OF BED 

Give Your Subconscious Self a Chance to Awake Gradually 

(5) 
RAISE FISH ON YOUR FARM 

(6) 
BETTER STOPl LOOK I AND LISTEN I 



TITLES AND HEADLINES 179 

The attractiveness of titles may be heightened by such 
combinations of sounds as alliteration and rhyme, or by 
rhythm such as is produced by balanced elements. The 
following examples illustrate the use of alliteration, rhyme, 
and balance: 

(1) 
THE LURE OF THE LATCH 

(2) 
. THE DIMINISHING DOLLAR 

(3) 
TRACING TELEPHONE TROUBLES 

(4) 
BOY CULTURE AND AGRICULTURE 

(5) 
A LITTLE BILL AGAINST BILLBOARDS 

(6) 
EVERY CAMPUS A CAMP 

(7) 
LABOR-LIGHTENERS AND HOME-BRIGHTENERS 

(8) 

THE ARTILLERY MILL AT OLD FORT SILL 

How Uncle Sam is Training His Field Artillery Officers 

(9) 
SCHOLARS VS. DOLLARS 

(10) 

WAR ON PESTS 

(When the Spray Gun 's Away, Crop Enemies Play 



180 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

(11) 
MORE HEAT AND LESS COAL 

(12) 
GRAIN ALCOHOL FROM GREEN GARBAGE 

How to Frame a Title. The application of the general 
principles governing titles may best be shown by means of 
an article for which a title is desired. A writer, for exam- 
ple, has prepared a popular article on soil analysis as a 
means of determining what chemical elements different 
kinds of farm land need to be most productive. A simple 
label title Hke " The Value of Soil Analysis," obviously 
would not attract the average person, and probably would 
interest only the more enterprising of farmers. The analy- 
sis of soil not unnaturally suggests the diagnosis of human 
disease; and the remedying of worn-out, run-down farm 
land by applying such chemicals as phosphorus and lime, 
is analogous to the physician's prescription of tonics for 
a run-down, anaemic person. These ideas may readily be 
worked out as the following titles show: 

(1) 

PRESCRIBING FOR RUN-DOWN LAND 

What the Soil Doctor is Doing to Improve Our Farms 

(2) 

THE SOIL DOCTOR AND HIS TONICS 

Prescribing Remedies for Wom-Out Farm Land 

(3) 

DIAGNOSING ILLS OF THE SOIL 

Science Offers Remedies for Depleted Farms 

Other figurative titles like the following may be devel- 
oped without much effort from the ideas that soil " gets 
tired," " wears out," and '^ needs to be fed ": 



TITLES AND HEADLINES 181 

(1) 

WHEN FARM LAND GETS TIRED 

Scientists Find Causes of Exhausted Fields 

(2) 
FIELDS WON'T WEAR OUT 
If the Warnings of Soil Experts Are Heeded 

(3) 

BALANCED RATIONS FOR THE SOIL 

Why the Feeding of Farm Land is Necessary for Good Crops 



CHAPTER X 
PREPARING AND SELLING THE MANUSCRIPT 

Importance of Good Manuscript. After an article has 
been carefully revised, it is ready to be copied in the form 
in which it will be submitted to editors. Because hun- 
dreds of contributions are examined every day in editorial 
offices of large publications, manuscripts should be sub- 
mitted in such form that their merits can be ascertained as 
easily and as quickly as possible. A neatly and carefully 
prepared manuscript is Hkely to receive more favorable 
consideration than a badly typed one. The impression 
produced by the external appearance of a manuscript as it 
comes to an editor's table is comparable to that made by 
the personal appearance of an applicant for a position as 
he enters an office seeking employment. In copying his 
article, therefore, a writer should keep in mind the impres- 
sion that it will make in the editorial ofiice. 

Form for Manuscripts. Editors expect all manuscripts 
to be submitted in typewritten form. Every person who 
aspires to write for publication should learn to use a type- 
writer. Until he has learned to type his work accurately, 
he must have a good typist copy it for him. 

A good typewriter with clean type and a fresh, black, 
non-copying ribbon produces the best results. The fol- 
lowing elementary directions apply to the preparation of all 
manuscripts: (1) write on only one side of the paper; (2) 
allow a margin of about three quarters of an inch on all 
sides of the page; (3) double space the lines in order to 
leave room for changes, sub-heads, and other editing. 

Unruled white bond paper of good quality in standard 
letter size, 8i by 11 inches, is the most satisfactory. A 
high grade of paper not only gives the manuscript a good 
appearance but stands more handhng and saves the recopy- 
ing of returned manuscripts. A carbon copy should be 



PREPARING AND SELLING THE MANUSCRIPT 183 

made of every manuscript so that, if the original copy goes 
astray in the mail or in an editorial office, the writer's work 
will not have been in vain. The carbon copy can also be 
used later for comparison with the printed article. Such a 
comparison will show the writer the amount and character 
of the editing that was deemed necessary to adapt the 
material to the publication in which it appears. 

A cover sheet of the same paper is a convenient device. 
It not only gives the editorial reader some information 
in regard to the article, but it protects the manuscript it- 
self. Frequently, for purposes of record, manuscripts are 
stamped or marked in editorial offices, but if a cover page 
is attached, the manuscript itself is not defaced. When 
an article is returned, the writer needs to recopy only 
the cover page before starting the manuscript on its 
next journey. The form for such a cover page is given on 
page 184. 

The upper half of the first page of the manuscript should 
be left blank, so that the editor may write a new title and 
sub-title if he is not satisfied with those supplied by the 
author. The title, the sub-title, and the author's name 
should be repeated at the beginning of the article in the 
middle of the first page, even though they have been 
given on the cover page. At the left-hand side, close to 
the top of each page after the first, should be placed the 
writer's last name followed by a dash and the title of the 
article, thus: 

Milton — Confessions of a Freshman. 

The pages should be numbered in the upper right-hand 
corner. By these simple means the danger of losing a page 
in the editorial offices is reduced to a minimum. 

Tjrpographical Style. Every newspaper and magazine 
has its own distinct typographical style in capitalization, 
abbreviation, punctuation, hyphenation, and the use of 
numerical figures. Some newspapers and periodicals have 
a style book giving rules for the preparation and editing of 
copy. A careful reading of several issues of a publication 



184 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



To be paid for at usual Written for The Outlook 

rates, or to be returned 
with the ten (10) cents 
in stamps enclosed, to 

Arthur W. Milton, 

582 Wilson Street, 

Des Moines, Iowa. 



CONFESSIONS OF A FRESHMAN 

Why I Was Dropped From College at the End of My 
Fu-st Year 

By Arthur W. Milton 

(Note. This article is based on the writer's own 
experience in a large Middle Western state uni- 
versity, and the statistics have been obtained 
from the registrars of four state universities. 
It contains 2,750 words.) 

Four (4) Photographs are Enclosed, as follows: 

1. How I Decorated My Room 

2. I Spent Hours Learning to Play My Ukelele 

3. When I Made the Freshman Team 

4. Cramming For My Final Exams 



PREPARING AND SELLING THE MANUSCRIPT 185 

will show a writer the salient features of its typographical 
style. It is less important, however, to conform to the 
typographical peculiarities of any one publication than it is 
to follow consistently the commonly accepted rules of cap- 
itahzation, punctuation, abbreviation, and " unreformed '* 
spelling. Printers prefer to have each page end with a 
complete sentence. At the close of the article it is well to 
put the end mark (#). 

When a special feature story for newspaper publication 
must be prepared so hastily that there is no time to copy 
the first draft, it may be desirable to revise the manuscript 
by using the marks commonly employed in editing copy. 
These are as follows: 



gnerics 



Three short lines under a letter or a 
word indicate that it is to be set in 
capital letters; thus, American. 



Hew York Times 



Two short lines under a letter or a,r 
word indicate that it is to be set in 
small capital letters; thus. New 
York Times. 



sine qua non 



One line under a word or words in- 
dicates that it is to be set in italics; 
thus, sine qua non. 



He is a ^ophomore 



An oblique line drawn from right to 
left through a capital letter indi- 
cates that it is to be set in lower 
case; thus. He is a sophomore. 



There are @ In a @. 



A circle around numerical figures or 
abbreviations indicates that they 
are to be spelled out; thus. There 
are ten in a bushel. 



professor) A . B . Sml th i s (sinp. 



A circle around words or figures 
spelled out indicates that they are 
to be abbreviated or that numeri- 
cal figures are to be used; thus. 
Prof. A. B. Smith is 60. 



186 



SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



[It is coB^llmen^ to blOji 



tojnorrow) 



L]JrighV 



U,S,4 per cent^gbonds 



A caret is placed at the point in the 
line where the letters or words 
written above the line are to be in- 
serted; thus. It is not compliment- 
ary to him. 

A line encircling two or more words 
like an elongated figure "8" indi- 
cates that the words are to be trans- 
posed; thus, to study carefully. 

Half circles connecting words or 
letters indicate that they are to be 
brought together; thus, tomorrow. 

A vertical line between parts of a 
word shows that the parts are to be 
separated; thus, all right. 

A small cross or a period in a circle 
may be used to show that a period 
is to be used; thus, U.S. 4 per cent, 
bonds. 



J^es, iLove laughs at lock- Quotation marks are often en- 

8mith8<J-, you kno«la., he replied. ^^^^^ j^ j^^if circles to indicate 

whether they are beginning or end 
marks. 



<5"How old~a^e'you7''~he~asked^ 
J" Sixteen", she .said. 



The paragraph mark (^) or the 
sign -J may be used to call attention 
to the beginning of a new paragraph. 



Mailing Manuscripte. Since manuscripts are written 
matter, they must be sent sealed as first-class mail at letter 
rates of postage. For the return of rej ected articles stamps 
may be attached to the cover page by means of a cHp, or a 
self-addressed envelope with stamps affixed may be en- 
closed. The writer's name and address should always be 
given on the envelope in which the manuscript is sent to 
the pubhshers. 

The envelope containing the article should be addressed 
to the " Editor " of a magazine or to the " Sunday Editor'' 
of a newspaper, as nothing is gained by addressing him or 



PREPARING AND SELLING THE MANUSCRIPT 187 

her by name. If a writer knows an editor personally or has 
had correspondence with him in regard to a particular arti- 
cle, it may be desirable to send the manuscript to him per- 
sonally. An accompanying letter is not necessary, for the 
cover page of the manuscript gives the editor and his assist- 
ants all the information that they need. 

Articles consisting of only a few pages may be folded 
twice and mailed in a long envelope; bulkier manuscripts 
should be folded once and sent in a manila manuscript en- 
velope. Photographs of sizes up to 5 x 7 inches may be 
placed in a manuscript that is folded once, with a single 
piece of stout cardboard for protection. When larger 
photographs, up to 8 x 10 inches, accompany the article, 
the manuscript must be sent unfolded, with two pieces of 
cardboard to protect the pictures. Manuscripts should 
never be rolled. 

How Manuscripts are Handled. In order to handle hun- 
dreds of manuscripts as expeditiously as possible, most 
large editorial oflSces have worked out systems that, though 
differing slightly, are essentially the same. When a manu- 
script is received, a record is made of it on a card or in a 
book, with the name and address of the author, the title 
and character of the contribution, and the time of its re- 
ceipt. The same data are entered on a blank that is at- 
tached to the manuscript by a clip. On this blank are left 
spaces for comments by each of the editorial assistants who 
read and pass upon the article. 

After these records have been made, the manuscript is 
given to the first editorial reader. He can determine by 
glancing at the first page or two whether or not the article 
is worth further consideration. Of the thousands of con- 
tributions of all kinds submitted, a considerable proportion 
are not in the least adapted to the periodical to which they 
have been sent. The first reader, accordingly, is scarcely 
more than a skilled sorter who separates the possible from 
the impossible. All manuscripts that are clearly unaccept- 
able are turned over to a clerk to be returned with a rejec- 
tion slip. 



188 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

When an article appears to have merit, the first reader 
looks over it a second time and adds a brief comment, 
which he signs with his initials. The manuscript is then 
read and commented on by other editorial readers before it 
reaches the assistant editor. The best of the contributions 
are submitted to the editor for a final decision. By such a 
system every meritorious contribution is considered care- 
fully by several critics before it is finally accepted or re- 
jected. Moreover, the editor and the assistant editor have 
before them the comments of several readers with which to 
compare their own impressions. 

In newspaper offices manuscripts are usually sorted by 
the assistant Sunday editor, or assistant magazine editor, 
and are finally accepted or rejected by the Sunday or mag- 
azine editor. 

Rejected Manuscripts. In rejecting contributions, edi- 
torial oflaces follow various methods. The commonest one 
is to send the author a printed slip expressing regret that 
the manuscript is not acceptable and encouraging him to 
submit something else. Some ingenious editors have pre- 
pared a number of form letters to explain to contributors 
the various reasons why their manuscripts are unaccepta- 
ble. The editorial assistant who rejects an unsuitable arti- 
cle indicates by number which of these form letters is to be 
sent to the author. A few editors send a personal letter to 
every contributor. Sometimes an editor in rejecting a con- 
tribution will suggest some publication to which it might be 
acceptable. If a manuscript has merit but is not entirely 
satisfactory, he may suggest that it be revised and sub- 
mitted to him again. 

Keeping a Manuscript Record, Every writer who in- 
tends to carry on his work in a systematic manner should 
keep a manuscript record, to assist him in marketing his 
articles to the best advantage. Either a book or a card in- 
dex may be used. The purpose of such a record is to show 
(1) the length of time required by various pubHcations to 
make a decision on contributions ; (2) the rate and the time 
of payment of each periodical; (3) the present whereabouts 



PREPARING AND SELLING THE MANUSCRIPT 189 

of his manuscript and the periodicals to which it has al- 
ready been submitted. 

It is important for a writer to know how soon he may 
expect a decision on his contributions. If he has prepared 
an article that depends on timeliness for its interest, he can- 
not afford to send it to an editor who normally takes three 
or four weeks to make a decision. Another pubhcation to 
which his article is equally well adapted, he may find from 
his manuscript record, accepts or rejects contributions 
within a week or ten days. Naturally he will send his 
timely article to the publication that makes the quickest 
decision. If that pubhcation rejects it, he will still have 
time enough to try it elsewhere. His experience with dif- 
ferent editors, as recorded in his manuscript record, often 
assists him materially in placing his work to the best ad- 
vantage. 

The rate and the time of payment for contributions are 
also worth recording. When an article is equally well 
suited to two or more periodicals, a writer will naturally be 
inclined to send it first to the publication that pays the 
highest price and that pays on acceptance. 

A manuscript record also indicates where each one of a 
writer's articles is at a given moment, and by what publica- 
tions it has been rejected. For such data he cannot afford 
to trust his memory. 

A writer may purchase a manuscript record book or may 
prepare his own book or card index. At the top of each 
page or card is placed the title of the article, followed by 
the number of words that it contains, the number of illus- 
trations that accompany it, and the date on which it was 
completed. On the lines under the title are written in turn 
the names of the periodicals to which the manuscript is 
submitted, with (1) the dates on which it was submitted 
and returned or rejected; (2) the rate and the time of pay- 
ment; and (3) any remarks that may prove helpful. A 
convenient form for such a page or card is shown on the 
next page: 

Accepted Manuscripts. Contributions accepted for 



190 



SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



Confessions of a Freshman. 2,750 Words. 4 Photos. Written, Jan. 18, 1919. 1 




Sent 


Returned 


Accepted 


Paid 


Amount 


Remarks 


The Outlook 


1/18/19 


1/30/19 










The Independent 


1/31/19 


2/10/19 










The Kansas City Star 


2/12/19 




2/18/19 


3/12/19 


$9.50 


$4 a col. 































publication are paid for at the time of their acceptance, at 
the time of their publication, or at some fixed date in the 
month following their acceptance or publication. Nearly- 
all well-estabhshed periodicals pay for articles when they 
are accepted. Some publications do not pay until the 
article is printed, a method obviously less satisfactory to a 
writer than prompt payment, since he may have to wait a 
year or more for his money. Newspapers pay either on 
acceptance or before the tenth day of the month following 
publication. The latter arrangement grows out of the 
practice of paying correspondents between the first and 
the tenth of each month for the work of the preceding 
month. 

After a manuscript has been accepted, a writer usually 
has no further responsibihty concerning it. Some maga- 
zines submit galley proofs to the author for correction and 
for any changes that he cares to make. It is desirable to 
make as few alterations as possible to avoid the delay and 
expense of resetting the type. Corrected proofs should be 
returned promptly. 

Unless specific stipulations are made to the contrary by 
the author, an article on being accepted by a periodical be- 
comes its property and cannot be repubhshed without its 
consent. Usually an editor will grant an author permis- 



PREPARING AND SELLING THE MANUSCRIPT 191 

sion to reprint an article in book or pamphlet form. By 
copyrighting each issue, as most magazines and some 
newspapers do, the publishers establish fully their rights to 
an author^s work. 

Syndicating Articles. By sending copies of his articles 
to a number of newspapers for simultaneous publication, a 
writer of special feature stories for newspapers may add to 
his earnings. This method is known as syndicating. It 
is made possible by the fact that the circulation of news- 
papers is largely local. Since, for example, Chicago papers 
are not read in New York, or Minneapolis papers in St. 
Louis, these papers may well publish the same articles on 
the same day. Organized newspaper syndicates furnish 
many papers with reading matter of all kinds. 

The same article must not, however, be sent to more 
than one magazine, but a single subject may be used for 
two entirely different articles intended for two magazines. 
If two articles are written on the same subject, different 
pictures should be secured, so that it will not be necessary 
to send copies of the same illustrations to two magazines. 
Agricultural journals with a distinctly sectional circulation 
do not object to using syndicated articles, provided that 
the journals to which the article is sent do not circulate in 
the same territory. 

If a writer desires to syndicate his work, he must con- 
form to several requirements. First, he must make as 
many good copies as he intends to send out and must se- 
cure separate sets of photographs to accompany each one. 
Second, he must indicate clearly on each copy the fact that 
he is syndicating the article and that he is sending it to 
only one paper in a city. A special feature story, for in- 
stance, sent to the Kansas City Star for publication in its 
Sunday edition, he would mark, " Exclusive for Kansas 
City. Release for Publication, Sunday, January 19." 
Third, he must send out the copies sufficiently far in ad- 
vance of the release date to enable all of the papers to ar- 
range for the publication of the article on that day. For 
papers with magazine sections that are made up a week or 



192 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

more before the day of publication, articles should be in 
the office of the editor at least two weeks before the release 
date. For papers that make up their Sunday issues only 
a few days in advance, articles need be submitted only a 
week before the pubhcation day. 

Selling Articles to Syndicates. The syndicates that 
supply newspapers with various kinds of material, includ- 
ing special feature stories, are operated on the same princi- 
ple that governs the syndicating of articles by the writer 
himself. That is, they furnish their features to a number 
of different papers for simultaneous publication. Since, 
however, they sell the same material to many papers, they 
can afford to do so at a comparatively low price and still 
make a fair profit. To protect their Hterary property, 
they often copyright their features, and a Hne of print an- 
nouncing this fact is often the only indication in a news- 
paper that the matter was furnished by a syndicate. 
Among, the best-known newspaper syndicates are the 
Newspaper Enterprise Association, Cleveland, Ohio; the 
McClure Newspaper Syndicate, New York; and the News- 
paper Feature Service, New York. A number of large 
newspapers, Uke the New York Evening Post, the Phila- 
delphia Ledger, and the New York Tribune, syndicate 
their popular features to papers in other cities. 

A writer may submit his special feature stories to one of 
the newspaper syndicates just as he would send it to a 
newspaper or magazine. These organizations usually pay 
well for acceptable manuscripts. It is not as easy, how- 
ever, to discover the needs and general policy of each syn- 
dicate as it is those of papers and magazines, because fre- 
quently there is no means of identifying their articles when 
they are printed in newspapers. 



CHAPTER XI 
PHOTOGRAPHS AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 

Value of Illustrations. The perfecting of photo-engrav- 
ing processes for making illustrations has been one of the 
most important factors in the development of popular 
magazines and of magazine sections of newspapers, for good 
pictures have contributed largely to their success. With the 
advent of the half-tone process a generation ago, and with 
the more recent application of the rotogravure process to 
periodical pubhcations, comparatively cheap and rapid 
methods of illustration were provided. Newspapers and 
magazines have made extensive use of both these processes. 

The chief value of illustrations for special articles lies in 
the fact that they present graphically what would require 
hundreds of words to describe. Ideas expressed in pictures 
can be grasped much more readily than ideas expressed in 
words. As an aid to rapid reading illustrations are unex- 
celled. In fact, so effective are pictures as a means of con- 
veying facts that whole sections of magazines and Sunday 
newspapers are given over to them exclusively. 

Illustrations constitute a particularly valuable adjunct 
to special articles. Good reproductions of photographs 
printed in connection with the articles assist readers to vis- 
ualize and to understand what a writer is undertaking to 
explain. So fully do editors realize the great attractive- 
ness of illustrations, that they will buy articles accompa- 
nied by satisfactory photographs more readily than they 
will those without illustrations. Excellent photographs 
will sometimes sell mediocre articles, and meritorious arti- 
cles may even be rejected because they lack good illustra- 
tions. In preparing his special feature stories, a writer will 
do well to consider carefully the number and character of 
the illustrations necessary to give his work the strongest 
possible appeal. 



194 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Securing Photographs. Inexperienced writers are often 
at a loss to know how to secure good photographs. Pro- 
fessional photographers will, as a rule, produce the best 
results, but amateur writers often hesitate to incur the ex- 
pense involved, especially when they feel uncertain about 
selling their articles. If prints can be obtained from nega- 
tives that photographers have taken for other purposes, 
the cost is so small that a writer can afford to risk the ex- 
penditure. Money spent for good photographs is usually 
money well spent. 

Every writer of special articles should become adept in 
the use of a camera. With a little study and practice, any 
one can take photographs that will reproduce well for illus- 
trations. One advantage to a writer of operating his own 
camera is that he can take pictures on the spur of the mo- 
ment when he happens to see just what he needs. Uncon- 
ventional pictures caught at the right instant often make 
the best illustrations. 

The charges for developing films and for making prints 
and enlargements are now so reasonable that a writer need 
not master these technicalities in order to use a camera of 
his own. If he has time and interest, however, he may se- 
cure the desired results more nearly by developing and 
printing his own pictures. 

Satisfactory pictures can be obtained with almost any 
camera, but one with a high-grade lens and shutter is the 
best for all kinds of work. A pocket camera so equipped is 
very convenient. If a writer can afford to make a some- 
what larger initial investment, he will do well to buy a 
camera of the so-called " reflex '^ type. Despite its greater 
weight and bulk as compared with pocket cameras, it has 
the advantage of showing the picture full size, right side 
up, on the top of the camera, until the very moment that 
the button is pressed. These reflex cameras are equipped 
with the fastest types of lens and shutter, and thus are 
particularly well adapted to poorly Ughted and rapidly 
moving objects. 

A tripod should be used whenever possible. A hastily 



PHOTOGRAPHS AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 195 

taken snap shot often proves unsatisfactory, whereas, if 
the camera had rested on a tripod, and if a slightly longer 
exposure had been given, a good negative would doubtless 
have resulted. 

Requirements for Photographs. All photographs in- 
tended for reproduction by the half-tone or the rotogravure 
process should conform to certain requirements. 

First: The standard size of photographic prints to be 
used for illustrations is 5 x 7 inches, but two smaller sizes, 
4x5 and 3i x 5 J, as well as larger sizes such as 6i x 8^ 
and 8 x 10, are also acceptable. Professional photogra- 
phers generally make their negatives for illustrations in the 
sizes, 5x7, 6i x 8i, and 8x10. If a writer uses a pocket 
camera taking pictures smaller than post-card size (3i x 5i), 
he must have his negatives enlarged to one of the above 
standard sizes. 

Second: Photographic prints for illustrations should 
have a glossy surface; that is, they should be what is known 
as '^ gloss prints.'' Prints on rough paper seldom repro- 
duce satisfactorily; they usually result in " muddy " illus- 
trations. Prints may be mounted or unmounted; un- 
mounted ones cost less and require less postage, but are 
more easily broken in handling. 

Third: Objects in the photograph should be clear and 
well defined; this requires a sharp negative. For news- 
paper illustrations it is desirable to have prints with a 
stronger contrast between the dark and the light parts of 
the picture than is necessary for the finer half-tones and 
rotogravures used in magazines. 

Fourth: Photographs must have life and action. Pic- 
tures of inanimate objects in which neither persons nor ani- 
mals appear, seem " dead '' and unattractive to the aver- 
age reader. It is necessary, therefore, to have at least one 
person in every photograph. Informal, unconventional 
pictures in which the subjects seem to have been " caught" 
unawares, are far better than those that appear to have 
been posed. Good snap-shots of persons in characteristic 
surroundings are always preferable to cabinet photo- 



196 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

graphs. " Action pictures " are what all editors and all 
readers want. 

Fifth: Pictures must "tell the story*'; that is, they 
should illustrate the phase of the subject that they are de- 
signed to make clear. Unless a photograph has illustra- 
tive value it fails to accompUsh the purpose for which it is 
intended. 

Captions for Illustrations. On the back of a photograph 
intended for reproduction the author should write or type 
a brief explanation of what it represents. If he is skillful 
in phrasing this explanation, or " caption," as it is called, 
the editor will probably use all or part of it just as it 
stands. If his caption is unsatisfactory, the editor will 
have to write one based on the writer's explanation. A 
clever caption adds much to the attractiveness of an illus- 
tration. 

A caption should not be a mere label, but, like a photo- 
graph, should have life and action. It either should con- 
tain a verb of action or should imply one. In this and 
other respects, it is not unhke the newspaper headUne. 
Instead, for example, of the label title, ^' A Large Gold 
Dredge in Alaska," a photograph was given the caption, 
*' Digs Out a Fortune Daily." A picture of a young 
woman feeding chickens in a backyard poultry run that 
accompanied an article entitled " Did You Ever Think of a 
Meat Garden? " was given the caption " Fresh Eggs and 
Chicken Dinners Reward Her Labor." To illustrate an 
article on the danger of the pet cat as a carrier of disease 
germs, a photograph of a child playing with a cat was used 
with the caption, " How Epidemics Start." A portrait of 
a housewife who uses a number of labor-saving devices in 
her home bore the legend, " She is Reducing Housekeep- 
ing to a Science." " A Smoking Chimney is a Bad Sign " 
was the caption under a photograph of a chimney pouring 
out smoke, which was used to illustrate an article on how 
to save coal. 

Longer captions describing in detail the subject illus- 
trated by the photograph, are not uncommon; in fact, as 



PHOTOGRAPHS AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 197 

more and more pictures are being used, there is a growing 
tendency to place a short statement, or " overHne," above 
the illustration and to add to the amount of descriptive 
matter in the caption below it. This is doubtless due to 
two causes : the increasing use of illustrations unaccompa- 
nied by any text except the caption, and the effort to attract 
the casual reader by giving him a taste, as it were, of what 
the article contains. 

Drawings for Illustrations. Diagrams, working draw- 
ings, floor plans, maps, or pen-and-ink sketches are neces- 
sary to illustrate some articles. Articles of practical guid- 
ance often need diagrams. Trade papers like to have their 
articles illustrated with reproductions of record sheets and 
blanks designed to develop greater efficiency in office or 
store management. If a writer has a little skill in draw- 
ing, he may prepare in rough form the material that he 
considers desirable for illustration, leaving to the artists 
employed by the publication the work of making drawings 
suitable for reproduction. A writer who has had training 
in pen-and-ink drawing may prepare his own illustrations. 
Such drawings should be made on bristol board with black 
drawing ink, and should be drawn two or three times as 
large as they are intended to appear when printed. If rec- 
ord sheets are to be used for illustration, the ruling should 
be done with black drawing ink, and the figures and other 
data should be written in with the same kind of ink. Type- 
writing on blanks intended for reproduction should be 
done with a fresh record black ribbon. Captions are neces- 
sary on the back of drawings as well as on photographs. 

Mailing Photographs and Drawings. It is best to mail 
flat all photographs and drawings up to 8 x 10 in size, in 
the envelope with the manuscript, protecting them with 
pieces of stout cardboard. Only very large photographs 
or long, narrow panoramic ones should be rolled and mailed 
in a heavy cardboard tube, separate from the manuscript. 
The writer's name and address, as well as the title of the 
article to be illustrated, should be written on the back of 
every photograph and drawing. 



198 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

As photographs and drawings are not ordinarily re- 
turned when they are used with an article that is accepted, 
writers should not promise to return such material to the 
persons from whom they secure it. Copies can almost al- 
ways be made from the originals when persons furnishing 
writers with photographs and drawings desire to have the 
originals kept in good condition. 



PART II 



AN OUTLINE FOR ANALYSIS 201 



AN OUTLINE FOR THE ANALYSIS OF SPECIAL 
FEATURE ARTICLES 

I. Sources of Material 

1. What appears to have suggested the subject to the writer? 

2. How much of the article was based on his personal experi- 
ence? 

3. How much of it was based on his personal observations? 

4. Was any of the material obtained from newspapers or peri- 
odicals? 

5. What portions of the article were evidently obtained by 
interviews? 

6. What reports, documents, technical periodicals, and books 
of reference were used as sources in preparing the article? 

7. Does the article suggest to you some sources from which you 
might obtain material for your own articles? 

II. Interest and Appeal 

1. Is there any evidence that the article was timely when it 
was published? 

2. Is the article of general or of local interest? 

3. Does it seem to be particularly well adapted to the readers 
of the publication in which it was printed? Why? 

4. What, for the average reader, is the source of interest in the 
article? 

5. Does it have more than one appeal? 

6. Is the subject so presented that the average reader is led to 
see its application to himself and to his own affairs? 

7. Could an article on the same subject, or on a similar one, be 
written for a newspaper in your section of the country? 

8. What possible subjects does the article suggest to you? 

III. Purpose 

1. Did the writer aim to entertain, to inform, or to give practi- 
cal guidance? 

2. Does the writer seem to have had a definitely formulated 
purpose? 



202 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

3. How would you state this apparent purpose in one sentence? 

4. Is the purpose a worthy one? 

5. Did the writer accomplish his purpose? 

6. Does the article contain any material that seems unneces- 
sary to the accomplishment of the purpose? 

IV. Type of Aeticle 

1. To which type does this article conform? 

2. Is there any other type better adapted to the subject and 
material? 

3. How far did the character of the subject determine the 
methods of treatment? 

4. What other methods might have been used to advantage in 
presenting this subject? 

5. Is the article predominantly narrative, descriptive, or ex- 
pository? 

6. To what extent are narration and description used for ex- 
pository purposes? 

7. Are concrete examples and specific instances employed 
effectively? 

8. By what means are the narrative passages made interest- 
ing? 

9. Do the descriptive parts of the article portray the impres- 
sions vividly? 

V. Structure 

1. What main topics are taken up in the article? 

2. Could any parts of the article be omitted without serious 
loss? 

3. Could the parts be rearranged with gain in clearness, inter- 
est, or progress? 

4. Does the article march on steadily from beginning to end? 

5. Is the material so arranged that the average reader will 
reach the conclusion that the writer intended to have him 
reach? 

6. Is there variety in the methods of presentation? 

7. Is the length of the article proportionate to the subject? 

8. What type of beginning is used? 

9. Is the type of beginning well adapted to the subject and the 
material? 



AN OUTLINE FOR ANALYSIS 203 

10. Would the beginning attract the attention and hold the in- 
terest of the average reader? 

11. Is the beginning an integral part of the article? 

12. Is the length of the beginning proportionate to the length of 
the whole article? 

13. Is the beginning skillfully connected with the body of the 
article? 

VI. Style 

1. Is the article easy to read? Why? 

2. Is the diction literary or colloquial, specific or general, origi- 
nal or trite, connotative or denotative? 

3. Are figures of speech used effectively? 

4. Do the sentences yield their meaning easily when read 
rapidly? 

5. Is there variety in sentence length and structure? 

6. Are important ideas placed at the beginning of sentences? 

7. Are the paragraphs long or short? 

8. Are they well-organized units? 

9. Do the paragraphs begin with important ideas? 

10. Is there variety in paragraph beginnings? 

11. Is the tone well suited to the subject? 

12. Do the words, figures of speech, sentences, and paragraphs 
in this article suggest to you possible means of improving 
your own style? 

VII. Titles and Headlines 

1. Is the title attractive, accurate, concise, and concrete? 

2. To what type does it conform? 

3. What is the character of the sub-title, and what relation 
does it bear to the title? 



{Boston Herald) 

TEACH CHILDREN LOVE OF ART THROUGH 
STORY-TELLING 

And so," ended the story, "St. George slew the dragon." 



A great sigh, long drawn and sibilant, which for the last five 
minutes had been swelling 57 little thoraxes, burst out and filled 
the space of the lecture hall at the Museum of Fine Arts. 

*' 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0 !" said 27 Httle girls. 

"Aw-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w, gosh!" said 30 little boys. "Say, 
Mis' Cronan, there was n't no real dragon, was they ? " A shock- 
headed youngster pushed his way to the platform where Mrs. 
Mary C. Cronan, professional storyteller, stood smiUng and wist- 
fully looked up at her. "They wasn't no really dragon, was 
they.?" 

"'Course they was a dragon! Whadd'ye think the man 
wanted to paint the picture for if there was n't a dragon? Cer- 
tn'y there was a dragon. I leave it to Mis' Cronan if there 
was n't." 

Steering a narrow course between fiction and truth, Mrs. Cro- 
nan told her class that she thought there certainly must have 
been a dragon or the picture would n't have been painted. 

It was at one of the regular morning story hours at the Museum 
of Fine Arts, a department opened three years ago at the museum 
by Mrs. Cronan and Mrs. Laura Scales, a department which has 
become so popular that now hundreds of children a week are en- 
tertained, children from the pubhc playgrounds and from the 
settlement houses. 

On this particular day it was children from the Bickford street 
playground under the guidance of two teachers from the Lucretia 
Crocker School, Miss Roche and Miss Hayes, who had, in some 
mysterious manner, convoyed these 57 atoms to the museum by 
car without mishap and who apparently did not dread the neces- 
sity of getting them back again, although to the uninitiated it 
appeared a task beside which grasping a comet by the tail was a. 
pleasant afternoon's amusement. 

For the most part the story of St. George and the Dragon was a 
new thing to these children. They might stand for St. George, 



^ TEACH CHILDREN LOVE OF ART 205 

although his costume was a little out of the regular form at Ja- 
maica Plain, but the Dragon was another thing. 

"I don't believe it," insisted an 8-year-old. "I seen every ani- 
mal in the Zoo in the park and I don't see any of them things." 
But the wistful little boy kept insisting that there must be such 
an animal or Mrs. Cronan would n't say so. 

"That is the way they nearly always take it at first," said Mrs. 
Cronan. " Nearly all of these children are here for the first time. 
Later they will bring their fathers and mothers on Sunday and 
you might hear them explaining the pictures upstairs as if they 
were the docents of the museum. 

"The object of the story hour is to familiarize the children with 
as many as possible of the pictures of the Museum and to get 
them into the way of coming here of themselves. When they go 
away they are given cards bearing a reproduction of the picture 
about which the story of the day has been told, and on these cards 
is always an invitation to them to bring their families to the 
Museum on Saturday and Sunday, when there is no entrance 
fee." 

The idea of the story hour was broached several years ago and 
at first it was taken up as an experiment. Stereopticon slides 
were made of several of the more famous pictures in the Museum, 
and Mrs. Cronan, who was at the time achieving a well earned 
success at the Public Library, was asked to take charge of the 
story telling. The plan became a success at once. 

Later Mrs. Scales was called in to take afternoon classes, and 
now more than 1000 children go to the Museum each week during 
July and August and hear stories told entertainingly that fix in 
their minds the best pictures of the world. Following the stories 
they are taken through the halls of the Museum and are given 
short talks on some art subject. One day it may be some inter- 
esting thing on Thibetan amulets, or on tapestries or on some 
picture, Stuart's Washington or Turner's Slave Ship, or a colorful 
canvas of Claude Monet. 

It is hoped that the movement may result in greater familiarity 
with and love for the Museum, for it is intended by the officials 
that these children shall come to love the Museum and to care for 
the collection and not to think of it, as many do, as a cold, unre- 
sponsive building containing dark mysteries, or haughty officials, 
or an atmosphere of "highbrow" iciness. 

"I believe," says Mrs. Cronan, "that our little talks are doing 
just this thing. And although some of them, of course, can't get 



206 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

the idea quite all at once, most of these children will have a soft 
spot hereafter for Donatello's St. George." 

At least some of them were not forgetting it, for as they filed 
out the wistful httle boy was still talking about it. 

*' Ya," he said to the scoffer, "you might n't a seen him at the 
Zoo. That's all right, but you never went over to the 'quarium. 
Probably they got one over there. Gee! I wish I could see a 
dragon. What color are they. f^" 

But the smallest boy of all, who had hold of Miss Hayes's hand 
and who had been an interested listener to all this, branched out 
mentally into other and further fields. 

"Aw," said he, "I know a feller what's got a ginny pig wit' 
yeller spots on 'im and he — " And they all trailed out the door. 



(Christian Science Monitor) 

One illustration, a half-tone reproduction of a photograph showing 
the interior of the greenhouse with girls at work. 

WHERE GIRLS LEARN TO WIELD SPADE 
AND HOE 

To go to school in a potato patch; to say one's lessons to a 
farmer; to study in an orchard and do laboratory work in a green- 
house — this is the pleasant lot of the modern girl who goes to a 
school of horticulture instead of going to college, or perhaps after 
going to college. 

If ever there was a vocation that seemed specially adapted to 
many women, gardening would at first glance be the one. From 
the time of 

" Mistress Mary, quite contrary, 
How does your garden grow?" 

down to the busy city woman who to-day takes her recreation by 
digging in her flowerbeds, gardens have seemed a natural habitat 
for womankind, and garden activities have belonged to her by 
right. 

In various parts of the country there have now been estab- 
lished schools where young women may learn the ways of trees 
and shrubs, vegetables and flowers, and may do experimental 
work among the growing things themselves. Some of these 
schools are merely adjuncts of the state agricultural colleges, 



GIRLS LEARN TO WIELD SPADE AND HOE 207 

with more or less limited courses of instruction; but, just out of 
Philadelphia, there is a school, to which women only are admitted, 
that is located on a real farm, and covers a wide range of outdoor 
study. 

One begins to feel the homely charm of the place the moment 
instructions are given as to how to reach it. 

"Out the old Lime-kiln road," you are told. And out the old 
Lime-kiln road you go, until you come to a farm which spells the 
perfection of care in every clump of trees and every row of vege- 
tables. Some girls in broad-brimmed hats are working in the 
strawberry bed — if you go in strawberry time — and farther on 
a group of women have gathered, with an overalled instructor, 
under an apple tree the needs of which are being studied. 

Under some sedate shade trees, you are led to an old Pennsyl- 
vania stone farmhouse — the administration building, if you 
please. Beyond are the barns, poultry houses, nurseries and 
greenhouses, and a cottage which is used as a dormitory for 
the girls — as unlike the usual dormitory as the school is unlike 
the usual school. A bee colony has its own little white village 
near by. 

Then the director, a trained woman landscape gardener, tells 
you all that this school of horticulture has accomplished since its 
founding five years ago. 

"Women are naturally fitted for gardening, and for some years 
past there have been many calls for women to be teachers in 
school gardens, planners of private gardens, or landscape garden- 
ers in institutions for women. Very few women, however, have 
had the practical training to enable them to fill such positions, 
and five years ago there was little opportunity for them to obtain 
such training. At that time a number of women in and about 
Philadelphia, who realized the need for thorough teaching in all 
the branches of horticulture, not merely in theory but in practice, 
organized this school. The course is planned to equip women 
with the practical knowledge that will enable them to manage 
private and commercial gardens, greenhouses or orchards. Some 
women wish to learn how to care for their own well-loved gar- 
dens; some young girls study with the idea of establishing their 
own greenhouses and raising flowers as a means of livelihood; still 
others want to go in for fruit farming, and even for poultry raising 
or bee culture. 

" In other countries, schools of gardening for women are hold- 
ing a recognized place in the educational world. In England, 



208 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Belgium, Germany, Italy, Demnark and Russia, such institu- 
tions have long passed the experimental stage; graduates from 
their schools are managing large estates or holding responsible 
positions as directors of pubHc or private gardens, as managers of 
commercial greenhouses, or as consulting horticulturists and lec- 
turers. In this country there is a growing demand for supervisors 
of home and school gardens, for work on plantations and model 
farms, and for landscape gardenere. Such positions command 
large salaries, and the comparatively few women available for 
them are almost certain to attain success." 

Already one of the graduates has issued a modest brown circu- 
lar stating that she is equipped to supply ideas for gardens and 
personally to plant them; to expend limited sums of money to the 
best advantage for beauty and service; to take entire charge of 
gardens and orchards for the season and personally to supervise 
gardens during the owners' absence; to spray ornamental trees 
and shrubs, and prune them; and to care for indoor plants and 
window boxes. 

''She is making a success of it, too. She has all she can do," 
comments one of the women directors, who is standing by. 

A smiling strawberry student, who is passing, readily tells all 
that going to a garden school means. 

'' Each one of us has her own small plot of ground for which she 
is responsible. We have to plant it, care for it, and be marked ou 
it. We all have special care of certain parts of the greenhouse, 
too, and each has a part of the nursery, the orchard and the vine- 
yard. Even the work that is too heavy for us we have to study 
about, so that we can direct helpers when the time comes. We 
have to understand every detail of it all. We have to keep a 
daily record of our w^ork. This is the way to learn how long it 
takes for different seeds to germinate, and thus we watch the 
development of the fruits and flowers and vegetables. You see, 
the attendance at the school is limited to a small number; so 
each one of us receives a great deal of individual attention and 
help. 

''We learn simple carpentry, as part of the course, so that we 
shall be able to make window boxes, flats, cold frames and other 
articles that we need. We could even make a greenhouse, if we 
had to. We are taught the care and raising of poultry, we learn 
bee culture, and we have a course in landscape gardening. 
There is a course in canning and preserving, too, so that our 
fruits and berries can be disposed of in that way, if we should not 



BOYS IN SEARCH OF JOBS 209 

be able to sell them outright, when we have the gardens of our 
own that we are all looking forward to." 

In the cozy cottage that serves as a dormitory, there is a large 
classroom, where the lectures in botany, entomology, soils and 
horticultural chemistry are given. There is a staff of instructors, 
all from well-known universities, and a master farmer to impart 
the practical everyday process of managing fields and orchards. 
Special lectures are given frequently by experts in various sub- 
jects. In the cottage is a big, homehke living-room, where the 
girls read and sing and dance in the evening. Each girl takes 
care of her own bedroom. 

The costumes worn by these garden students are durable, ap- 
propriate and most becoming. The school colors are the woodsy 
ones of brown and green, and the working garb is carried out in 
these colors. Brown khaki or corduroy skirts, eight inches from 
the ground, with two large pockets, are worn under soft green 
smocks smocked in brown. The sweaters are brown or green, 
and there is a soft hat for winter and a large shade hat for sum- 
mer. Heavy working gloves and boots are provided, and a large 
apron with pockets goes with the outfit. 

All in all, you feel sure, as you go back down the "old Lime- 
Kiln road," that the motto of the school will be fulfilled in the 
life of each of its students: "So enter that daily thou mayst be- 
come more thoughtful and more learned. So depart that daily 
thou mayst become more useful to thyself and to all mankind." 



(Boston Transcript) 

BOYS IN SEARCH OF JOBS 

By RAYMOND G. FULLER 

One morning lately, if you had stood on Kneeland street in 
sight of the entrance of the State Free Employment Office, you 
would have seen a long line of boys — a hundred of them — 
waiting for the doors to open. They were of all sorts of racial ex- 
traction and of ages ranging through most of the teens. Some 
you would have called ragamuffins, street urchins, but some were 
too well washed, combed and laundered for such a designation. 
Some were eagerly waiting, some anxiously, some indifferently. 
Some wore sober faces; some were standing soldierly stiff; but 
others were bubbling over with the spirits of their age, gossiping, 



210 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

shouting, indulging in colt-play. When they came out, some 
hustled away to prospective employers and others loitered in the 
street. Disappointment was written all over some of them, from 
face to feet; on others the inscription was, ''I don't care." 

Two hundred boys applied for "jobs" at the employment 
office that day. Half the number were looking for summer posi- 
tions. Others were of the vast army of boys who quit school for 
keeps at the eighth or ninth grade or thereabouts. Several 
weeks before school closed the ofl&ce had more than enough boy 
''jobs" to go around. With the coming of vacation time the 
ratio was reversed. The boy appHcants were a hundred or two 
hundred daily. For the two hundred on the day mentioned 
there were fifty places. 

Says Mr. Deady, who has charge of the department for male 
minors: "Ranging from fourteen to nineteen years of age, of all 
nationalities and beliefs, fresh from the influence of questionable 
home environment, boisterous and brimful of animation, without 
ideas and thoughtless to a marked degree — this is the picture of 
the ordinary boy who is in search of employment. He is without 
a care and his only thought, if he has one, is to obtain as high a 
wage as possible. It is safe to say that of the thousands of boys 
who apply annually at the employment oflace, two-thirds are be- 
tween sixteen and eighteen years of age. Before going further, 
we can safely say that twenty per cent of the youngest lads have 
left school only a few weeks before applying for work. Approxi- 
mately sixty per cent have not completed a course in the element- 
ary grammar schools." 

The boy of foreign parentage seems to be more in earnest, more 
ambitious, than the American boy (not to quibble over the defini- 
tion of the adjective "American"). Walter L. Sears, superin- 
tendent of the office in Kneeland street, tells this story: 

An American youngster came in. 

"Gotta job.?" he asked. 

"Yes, here is one" — referring to the card records — "in a 
printing office; four dollars a week." 

" 'Taint enough money. Got anything else? " 

" Here 's a place in a grocery store — six dollars a week." 

"What time d'ye have to get to work in the morning.?" 

"Seven o'clock." 

"Got anything else?" 

"Here's something — errand boy — six a week, mornings at 
eight." 



BOYS IN SEARCH OF JOBS 211 

"Saturday afternoons off?" 

" Nothing is said about it." 

" W-ell-1, maybe I '11 drop around and look at it." 

American independence! 

An Italian boy came in, looking for work. He was told of the 
printing office job. 

"All right, riltakeit." 

For what it is worth, it may be set down that a large proportion 
of the boy applicants carefully scrutinize the dollar sign when 
they talk wages. Moreover, they are not unacquainted with that 
phrase concocted by those higher up, "the high cost of living." 
The compulsion of the thing, or the appeal of the phrase — 
which? 

The youthful unemployed, those who seek employment, would 
cast a good-sized vote in favor of "shoffer." A youngster comes 
to Mr. Sears. He wants to be a "shoffer." 

" Why do you want to be a chauffeur? " 

"I don't know." 

"Have n't you any reasons at all?" 

"No, sir.'^ 

"Is n't it because you have many times seen the man at the 
wheel rounding a corner in an automobile at a 2.40 clip and sail- 
ing down the boulevard at sixty miles an hour? " 

The boy's eyes light up with the picture. • 

"Is n't that it?" 

And the boy's eyes light up with discovery. 

"Yes, I guess so." 

"Well, have you ever seen the chauffeur at night, after being 
out all day with the car? Overalls on, sleeves rolled up, face 
streaming with perspiration? Repairing the mechanism, polish- 
ing the brass ? Tired to death ? ' ' 

"No, sir." 

The boy applicants seldom have any clear idea of the ultimate 
prospects in any line of work they may have in mind — as to the 
salary limit for the most expert, or the opportunities for promo- 
tion and the securing of an independent position. Many of them 
have no preconceived idea even of what they want to do, to say 
nothing of what they ought to do. 

Here is an instance. 

" I want a position," says a boy. 

"What kind of a position?" 

"I don't know." 



212 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

"Have n't you ever thought about it?'* 

"No." 

''Have n't you ever talked it over at home or at school?" 

''No." 

"Would you like to be a machinist?" 

"I don't know." 

"Would you like to be a plumber?" 

"I don't know." 

Similar questions, with similar answers, continue. Finally: 

"Would you like to be a doctor?" 

" I don't know — is that a good position? " 

Sometimes a boy is accompanied to the office by his father. 

"My son is a natural-born electrician," the father boasts. 

"What has he done to show that?" 

"Why, he's wired the whole house from top to bottom." 

It is found by further questions that the lad has installed a 
push-bell button at the front door and another at the back door. 
He had bought dry batteries, wire and buttons at a hardware 
store in a box containing full directions. It is nevertheless hard 
to convince the father that the boy may not be a natural-born 
electrician, after all. 

In frequent cases the father has not considered the limitations 
and opportunities in the occupation which he chooses for his son. 

Mr. Deady has this to say on the subject of the father's rela- 
tion to the boy's "job": "The average boy while seeking em- 
ployment in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred is unaccompanied 
by either parent. Such a condition is deplorable. It not only 
shows a lack of interest in the boy's welfare on the part of the 
parents, but also places the j^outhful apphcant in an unfair posi- 
tion. Oftentimes, o^ing to inexperience, a boy accepts a posi- 
tion without inquiring into the details and nature of the same. 
His main thought is the amount of the wage to be received. 
Consequently there is but one ob\'ious result. The hours are ex- 
cessive, the work is beyond the boy's strength or is hazardous, 
and finally the lad withdraws without notice. It is this general 
apathy on the part of the parents of a boy, combined with over- 
zealousness on the part of an ordinary employer to secure boy 
labor for a mere trifle, that accounts for the instabiUty of juvenile 
labor." 

The coming of vacation invariably brings a great influx of boys 
to the State employment office, some looking for summer work, 
others for permanent employment. Most of them show lack of 



GIRLS AND A CAMP 213 

intelligent constructive thought on the matter in hand. Few of 
them have had any counsel, or any valuable counsel from their 
parents or others. To Mr. Sears and his assistants — and they 
have become very proficient at it — is left the task of vocational 
guidance, within such limitations as those of time and equip- 
ment. What can be done to get the boy and his sponsors to 
thinking intelligently about the question of an occupation for the 
boy, with proper regard to their mutual fitness .'' 

Superintendent Sears has some suggestions to offer. In his 
opinion the subject of occupational choice should be debated 
thoroughly in the public schools. He favors the introduction of 
some plan embodying this idea in the upper grades of the gram- 
mar school, under conditions that would give each boy an oppor- 
tunity to talk, and that would encourage him to consult his par- 
ents and teachers. The debates might be held monthly, and 
preparation should be required. Experts or successful men in 
various occupations might be called in to address the pupils 
and furnish authoritative information. The questions debated 
should involve the advisability of learning a trade and the choice 
of a trade, and the same considerations with respect to the profes- 
sions, the mercantile pursuits, and so on. The pupils should be 
allowed to vote on the merits of each question debated. By such 
a method, thinks Mr. Sears, the boys would gain the valuable 
training which debating gives, would devote considerable thought 
to the question of their future employment, would acquire much 
information, and would get their parents more interested in the 
matter than many of them are. 



{New York Evening Post) 

GIRLS AND A CAMP 

Now it is that Many Coveys of Students are 

Headed toward Lake and Mountain — 

Just How it Pays 

With the sudden plunge into a muggy heat, more suggestive of 
July than of the rare June weather of poets, there has begun the 
exodus of summer camp folk, those men and women who add to 
the slender salary of the teaching profession the additional in- 
come made by running camps for boys and girls during the long 
vacation. They stretch, these camps, in rapidly extending area 



214 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

from Canada through Maine and northern New England, into 
the Adirondacks and the Alleghenies, and then across toward the 
Northwest and the Rockies. It is quite safe to assert that there 
is not a private school of importance that does not take under its 
protection and support at least one such institution, while large 
numbers of teachers either own camps or assist in their manage- 
ment as instructors. 

One group, unmistakably the advance guard of a girls' camp, 
assembled at the Grand Central Station on Wednesday. There 
were two alert, dignified women, evidently the co-principals; a 
younger woman, who, at least so the tired suburban shopper de- 
cided, was probably the athletic instructor; two neat colored 
women, and a small girl of twelve, on tiptoe with excitement, 
talking volubly about the fun she would have when they got to 
the lake and when all the other girls arrived. Her excited chat- 
ter also revealed the fact that father and mother had just sailed 
for Europe, and, while she thought of them with regret, there was 
only pleasure in prospect as she started northward. There was 
much baggage to be attended to, and consultation over express 
and freight bills, with interesting references to tents, canoes, and 
tennis nets. 

Success is an excellent testimonial, and there is no longer any 
need to point out the advantages of such camps for boys and 
girls. They fill a real place for the dehcate, the lazy, or the back- 
ward, who must needs do extra work to keep up with their 
school grade, for those who otherwise would be condemned to 
hotel fife, or for the children whose parents, because of circum- 
stances, are compelled to spend the summer in cities. Even the 
most jealously anxious of mothers are among the converts to the 
movement. As one said the other day of her only son, "Yes, 
David will go to Mr. D.'s camp again this summer. It will be his 
third year. I thought the first time that I simply could not part 
with him. I pictured him drowned or ill from poor food or severe 
colds. Indeed, there was n't a single terror I did n't imagine. 
But he enjoyed it so, and came home so well and happy, that 
I 've never worried since." 

From the child's point of view, summer camps are a blessing, 
and, as such, they have come to stay. But there are those who 
doubt their benefits, even the financial ones, for the teachers, who 
mortgage their vacations to conduct them. Unfortunately, as 
every one knows, almost every teacher has to mortgage her spare 
time in one way or another in order to make a more than bare 



GIRLS AND A CAMP 215 

living. Call the roll of those whom you may know, and you will 
be surprised — no, scarcely surprised; merely interested — to 
find that nine-tenths of them do some additional work. It may 
be extra tutoring, hack writing, translating, the editing of school 
texts or the writing of text-books, taking agencies for this, that, 
or the other commodity, conducting travel parties, lecturing at 
educational institutes, running women's clubs, or organizing na- 
ture classes. Some outside vocation is necessary if the teacher is 
to enjoy the advantages her training makes almost imperative, 
or the comforts her tired, nervous organism demands. So, as one 
philosopher was heard to remark, it is perhaps best to run a sum- 
mer camp, since in the doing of it there is at least the advantage of 
being in the open and of leading a wholesomely sane existence. 

Two good friends and fellow-teachers who have conducted a 
camp in northern Maine for the last five years have been ex- 
tremely frank in setting forth their experiences for the benefit of 
those who are standing on the brink of a similar venture. And 
their story is worth while, because from every point of view they 
have been successful. Any pessimistic touches in their narrative 
cannot be laid at the door of failure. Indeed, in their first year 
they cleared expenses, and that is rare; and their clientele has 
steadily increased until now they have a camp of forty or more 
girls, at the very topmost of camp prices. Again, as there were 
two of them and they are both versatile, they have needed little 
assistance; the mother of one has been house mother and general 
camp counsellor. With all this as optimistic preamble, let us 
hear their story. 

Perhaps their first doubt arises with regard to the wear and 
tear of camp life upon those most directly responsible for its con- 
duct. " For years we even refused to consider it," said the senior 
partner, "although urged by friends and would-be patrons, be- 
cause we realized the unwisdom of working the year around and 
living continuously with school girls — but the inevitable hap- 
pened. Our income did not keep pace with our expenses, and it 
was start a camp or do something less agreeable. Just at the 
psychological moment one of our insistent friends found the right 
spot, we concluded negotiations, and, behold, we are camp pro- 
prietors, not altogether sure, in our most uncompromisingly 
frank moments, that we have done the best thing." 

That a girls' camp is a far more difficult proposition than one 
for boys is evident on the face of it. Mother may shed tears over 
parting with Johnny, but, after all, he's a boy, and sooner or later 



216 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

must depend upon himself. But Sister Sue is another matter. 
Can she trust any one else to watch over her in the matter of flan- 
nels and dry stockings? Do these well-meaning but spinster 
teachers know the symptoms of tonsilitis, the first signs of a bil- 
ious attack, or the peculiarities of a spoiled girl's diet? And will 
not Sue lose, possibly, some of the gentle manners and dainty 
ways inculcated at home, by close contact with divers other ways 
and manners? She is inclined to be skeptical, is mother. ''And 
so," acknowledged the senior partner, "the first summer we were 
deluged by visits long and short from anxious ladies who could 
not believe on hearsay evidence that we knew how to care for 
their delicate daughters. They not only came, but they stayed, 
and as the nearest hotel was distant many devious miles of moun- 
tain road, we were forced to put them up ; finally the maids had to 
sleep in the old barn, and we were camping on cots in the hall of 
the farmhouse which is our headquarters. Naturally we had to 
be polite, for we were under the necessity of making a good im- 
pression that first year, but it was most distracting, for while they 
stayed they were unconsciously but selfislily demanding a little 
more than a fair share of time and attention for their daughters." 

And, indeed, all this maternal anxiety is not enthety misplaced. 
Sue is a good deal harder to take care of than Johnny. She 
needs a few more comforts, although camp life aims at eliminat- 
ing all but the essentials of simple living. Her clothes, even at a 
minimum, are more elaborate, which increases the difiiculty of 
laundering, always a problem in camping. She is infinitely more 
dependent upon her elders for direction in the veriest A B C's of 
daily existence. "Even the matter of tying a hair-ribbon or 
cleaning a pair of white canvas shoes is a mountain to a good 
many of mj'" girls," said the successful camp counsellor. 

Homesickness is "a malady most incident to maids." Boys 
may suffer from it, but they suffer alone. If tears are shed they 
are shed in secret, lest the other fellows find it out. Except in the 
case of the very little chaps, the masters are not disturbed. But 
girls have no such reserves ; and the teachers in charge of twenty- 
five strange girls, many in the throes of this really distressing ail- 
ment, are not to be envied. "Frankly speaking," went on the 
confession, "there is n't a moment of the day when we can dis- 
miss them from our thoughts. Are they ST\imming in charge of 
the director of athletics, a most capable girl, one of us must be 
there, too, because, should anything happen, we, and not she, are 
directly responsible. When the lesson hour is on, we not only 



GIRLS AND A CAMP 217 

teach, but must see that each girl's work is adapted to her needs, 
as they come from a dozen different schools. There are disputes 
to settle, plans for outings and entertainments to be made, games 
to direct, letters to the home folks to be superintended, or half 
the girls would never write at all, to say nothing of the marketing 
and housekeeping, and our own business correspondence, that has 
to be tucked into the siesta hour after luncheon. Indeed, in the 
nine weeks of camp last summer I never once had an hour that I 
could call my very own." 

''And that is only the day's anxiety," sighed her colleague re- 
flectively. " My specialty is prowling about at night to see that 
everybody is properly covered. Not a girl among them would 
have sense enough to get up and close windows in case of rain, so 
I sleep with one ear pricked for the first patter on the roof. Oc- 
casionally there are two or three who walk in their sleep, and I 'm 
on pins and needles lest harm come to them, so I make my rounds 
to see that they're safe. Oh, it is a peacefully placid existence, I 
assure you, having charge of forty darling daughters. Some of 
them have done nothing for themselves in their entire lives, and 
what a splendid place camp is for such girls. But while they're 
learning we must be looking out for their sins of omission, such, 
for instance, as throwing a soaking wet bathing suit upon a bed 
instead of hanging it upon the line." 

These are some of the few worries that attach to the care of 
sensitive and delicately brought up girls that the boys' camp 
never knows. But if the financial return is adequate there will 
naturally be some compensation for all these pinpricks. Here 
again the Senior Partner is inclined to hem and haw. "Given a 
popular head of camp," says she, "who has been fortunate enough 
to secure a desirable site and a paying clientele, and she will cer- 
tainly not lose money. Her summer will be paid for. However, 
that is not enough to reward her for the additional work and 
worry. Camp work does not confine itself to the nine weeks of 
residence. There are the hours and days spent in planning and 
purchasing equipment, the getting out of circulars, the corre- 
spondence entailed and the subsequent keeping in touch with 
patrons." 

Her own venture has so far paid its own way, and after the 
first year has left a neat margin of profit. But this profit, be- 
cause of expansion, has immediately been invested in new equip- 
ment. This year, for example, there has been erected a bungalow 
for general living purposes. A dozen new tents and four canoes 



218 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

were bought, and two dirt tennis courts made. Then each year 
there must be a general replenishing of dishes, table and bed 
linen, athletic goods, and furniture. The garden has been so en- 
larged that the semi-occasional man-of-all-work has been re- 
placed by a permanent gardener. 

Naturally, such extension does mean ultimate profit, and, 
given a few more years of continued prosperitj^, the summer Tvall 
yield a goodly additional income. But the teacher who under- 
takes a camp with the idea that such money is easily made, is mis- 
taken. One successful woman has cleared large sums, so large, 
indeed, that she has about decided to sever her direct connection 
with the private school where she has taught for years, and trust 
to her camp for a living. She has been so fortunate, it is but fair 
to explain, because her camp is upon a government reserve tract 
in Canada, and she has had to make no large investment in land; 
nor does she pay taxes. Desirable locations are harder to find 
nowadays and much more expensive to purchase. A fortunate 
pioneer in the movement bought seven acres, with five hundred 
feet of lake frontage, for three hundred dollars six years ago. 
That same land is worth ten times as much to-day. 

And the kind of woman who should attempt the summer camp 
for girls as a means of additional income? First of all, the one 
who really loves outdoor life, who can find in woods and water 
compensation for the wear and tear of summering with school- 
girls. Again, she who can minimize the petty worries of existence 
to the vanishing point. And, last of all, she who has business 
acumen. For what does it profit a tired teacher if she fill her 
camp list and have no margin of profit for her weeks of hard labor? 



{Saturday Evening Post) 
Two half-tone reproductions of wash-drawings by a staff artist. 

YOUR PORTER 

By EDWARD HUNGERFORD 

He stands there at the door of his car, dusky, grinning, im- 
maculate — awaiting your pleasure. He steps forward as you 
near him and, with a quick, intuitive movement born of long ex- 
perience and careful training, inquires: 

"What space you got, guv'nor.?" 



YOUR PORTER 219 

" Lower five," you reply. "Are you full-up, George? " 

"Jus' toler'bul, guv'nor." 

He has your grips, is already slipping down the aisle toward 
section five. And, after he has stowed the big one under the fac- 
ing bench and placed the smaller one by your side, he asks again: 

"Shake out a pillow for you, guv'nor? " 

That "guv'nor," though not a part of his official training, is a 
part of his unofficial — his subtlety, if you please. Another pas- 
senger might be the "kunnel"; still another, the "jedge." But 
there can be no other guv'nor save you on this car and trip. And 
George, of the Pullmans, is going to watch over you this night as 
a mother hen might watch over her solitary chick. The car is 
well filled and he is going to have a hard night of it; but he is go- 
ing to take good care of you. He tells you so; and, before you are 
off the car, you are going to have good reason to beheve it. 

Before we consider the sable-skinned George of to-day, give a 
passing thought to the Pullman itself. The first George of the 
Pullmans — George M. Pullman — was a shrewd-headed car- 
penter who migrated from a western New York village out into 
Illinois more than half a century ago and gave birth to the idea of 
railroad luxury at half a cent a mile. There had been sleeping 
cars before Pullman built the Pioneer, as he called his maiden 
effort. There was a night car, equipped with rough bunks for 
the comfort of passengers, on the Cumberland Valley Railroad 
along about 1840. 

Other early railroads had made similar experiments, but they 
were all makeshifts and crude. Pullman set out to build a sleep- 
ing car that would combine a degree of comfort with a degree of 
luxury. The Pioneer, viewed in the eyes of 1864, was really a 
luxurious car. It was as wide as the sleeping car of to-day and 
nearly as high; in fact, so high and so wide was it that there were 
no railroads on which it might run, and when Pullman pleaded 
with the old-time railroad officers to widen the clearances, so as 
to permit the Pioneer to run over their lines, they laughed at 
him. 

"It is ridiculous, Mr. Pullman," they told him smilingly in re- 
fusal. "People are never going to pay their good money to ride 
in any such fancy contraption as that car of yours." 

Then suddenly they ceased smiling. All America ceased smil- 
ing. Morse's telegraph was sobering an exultant land by telling 
how its great magistrate lay dead within the White House, at 



220 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Washington. And men were demanding a funeral car, dignified 
and handsome enough to carry the body of Abraham Lincoln 
from Washington to Springfield. Suddenly somebody thought 
of the Pioneer, which rested, a virtual prisoner, in a railroad yard 
not far from Chicago. 

The Pioneer was quickly released. There was no hesitation 
now about making clearances for her. Almost in the passing of a 
night, station platforms and other obstructions were being cut 
away, and the first of all the Pullman cars made a triumphant 
though melancholy journey to New York, to Washington, and 
back again to Illinois. Abraham Lincoln, in the hour of death — 
fifty years ago this blossoming spring of 1915 — had given birth 
to the Pullman idea. The other day, while one of the brisk Fed- 
eral commissions down at Washington was extending considera- 
tion to the Pullman porter and his wage, it called to the witness 
stand the executive head of the Pullman Company. And the 
man who answered the call was Robert T. Lincoln, the son of 
Abraham Lincoln. 

When Pullman built the Pioneer he designated it A, little 
dreaming that eventually he might build enough cars to exhaust 
the letters of the alphabet. To-day the Pullman Company has 
more than six thousand cars in constant use. It operates the en- 
tire sleeping-car service and by far the larger part of the parlor- 
car service on all but half a dozen of the railroads of the United 
States and Canada, with a goodly sprinkling of routes south into 
Mexico. On an average night sixty thousand persons — a com- 
munity equal in size to Johnstown, Pennsylvania, or South Bend, 
Indiana — sleep within its cars. 

And one of the chief excuses for its existence is the flexibility of 
its service. A railroad in the South, with a large passenger traffic 
in the winter, or a railroad in the North, with conditions reversed 
and travel running at high tide throughout the hot summer 
months, could hardly afford to place the investment in sleeping 
and parlor cars to meet its high-tide needs, and have those cars 
grow rusty throughout the long, dull months. The Pullman 
Company, by moving its extra cars backward and forward over 
the face of the land in regiments and in battalions, keeps them all 
earning money. It meets unusual traffic demands with all the 
resources of its great fleet of traveling hotels. 

Last summer, when the Knights Templars held their conven- 
tion in Denver, it sent four hundred and fifty extra cars out to 
the capital of Colorado. And this year it is bending its resources 



YOUR PORTER 221 

toward finding sufficient cars to meet the demands for the long 
overland trek to the expositions on the Pacific Coast. 

The transition from the Pioneer to the steel sleeping car of to- 
day was not accomphshed in a single step. A man does not have 
to be so very old or so very much traveled to recall the day when 
the Pullman was called a palace car and did its enterprising best 
to justify that title. It was almost an apotheosis of architectural 
bad taste. Disfigured by all manner of moldings, cornices, grilles 
and dinky plush curtains — head-bumping, dust-catching, use- 
less — it was a decorative orgy, as well as one of the very founda- 
tions of the newspaper school of humor. 

Suddenly the Pullman Company awoke to the absurdity of it 
all. More than ten years ago it came to the decision that archi- 
tecture was all right in its way, but that it was not a fundamental 
part of car building. It separated the two. It began to throw 
out the grilles and the other knickknacks, even before it had com- 
mitted itself definitely to the use of the steel car. 

Recently it has done much more. It has banished all but the 
very simplest of the moldings, and all the hangings save those 
that are absolutely necessary to the operation of the car. It has 
studied and it has experimented until it has produced in the 
sleeping car of to-day what is probably the most efficient railroad 
vehicle in the world. Our foreign cousins scoff at it and call it 
immodest; but we may reserve our own opinion as to the relative 
modesty of some of their institutions. 

This, however, is not the story of the Pullman car. It is the 
story of that ebony autocrat who presides so genially and yet so 
firmly over it. It is the story of George the porter — the six 
thousand Georges standing to-night to greet you and the other 
travehng folk at the doors of the waiting cars. And George is 
worthy of a passing thought. He was born in the day when the 
negro servant was the pride of America — when the black man 
stood at your elbow in the dining rooms of the greatest of our ho- 
tels; when a colored butler was the joy of the finest of the homes 
along Fifth Avenue or round Rittenhouse Square. Trans- 
planted, he quickly became an American institution. And there 
is many a man who avers that never elsewhere has there been such 
a servant as a good negro servant. 

Fashions change, and in the transplanting of other social ideas 
the black man has been shoved aside. It is only in the Pullman 
service that he retains his old-time pride and prestige. That 



m. SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

company to-day might almost be fairly called his salvation, de- 
spite the vexing questions of the wages and tips of the sleeping- 
car porters that have recently come to the fore. Yet it is almost 
equally true that the black man has been the salvation of the 
sleeping-car service. Experiments have been made in using oth- 
ers. One or two of the Canadian roads, which operate their own 
sleeping cars, have placed white men as porters; down in the 
Southwest the inevitable Mexicano has been placed in the famil- 
iar blue uniform. None of them has been satisfactory; and, in- 
deed, it is not every negro who is capable of taking charge of a 
sleeping car. 

The Pullman Company passes by the West Indians — the 
type so familiar to every man who has ridden many times in the 
elevators of the apartment houses of upper New York. It pre- 
fers to recruit its porters from certain of the states of the Old 
South — Georgia and the Carolinas. It almost limits its choice 
to certain counties within those states. It shows a decided prefer- 
ence for the sons of its employees; in fact, it might almost be said 
that to-day there are black boys growing up down there in the 
cotton country who have come into the world with the hope and 
expectation of being made Pullman car porters. The company 
that operates those cars prefers to discriminate — and it does dis- 
criminate. 

That is its first step toward service — the careful selection of 
the human factor. The next step lies in the proper training of 
that factor; and as soon as a young man enters the service of the 
Pullmans he goes to school — in some one of the large railroad 
centers that act as hubs for that system. Sometimes the school 
is held in one of the division offices, but more often it goes for- 
ward in the famihar aisle of a sleeping car, sidetracked for the 
purpose. 

Its curriculum is unusual but it is valuable. One moment it 
considers the best methods to ''swat the fly" — to drive him 
from the vehicle in which he is an unwelcome passenger; the next 
moment the class is being shown the proper handling of the linen 
closet, the proper methods of folding and putting away clean linen 
and blankets, the correct way of stacking in the laundry bags the 
dirty and discarded bedding. The porter is taught that a sheet 
once unfolded cannot be used again. Though it may be really 
spotless, yet technically it is dirty; and it must make a round trip 
to the laundry before it can reenter the service. 

All these things are taught the sophomore porters by a wrinkled 



YOUR PORTER 223 

veteran of the service; and they are minutely prescribed in the 
voluminous rule book issued by the Pullman Company, which be- 
lieves that the first foundation of service is disciphne. So the 
school and the rule book do not hesitate at details. They teach 
the immature porter not merely the routine of making up and 
taking down beds, and the proper maintenance of the car, but 
they go into such finer things as the calling of a passenger, for 
instance. Noise is tabooed, and so even a soft knocking on the 
top of the berth is forbidden. The porter must gently shake the 
curtains or the bedding from without. 

When the would-be porter is through in this schoolroom his 
education goes forward out on the line. Under the direction of 
one of the grizzled autocrats he first comes in contact with actual 
patrons — comes to know their personalities and their peculiari- 
ties. Also, he comes to know the full meaning of that overused 
and abused word — service. After all, here is the full measure of 
the job. He is a servant. He must realize that. And as a ser- 
vant he must perfect himself. He must rise to the countless op- 
portunities that will come to him each night he is on the run. 
He must do better — he must anticipate them. 

Take such a man as Eugene Roundtree, who has been running 
a smoking car on one of the limited trains between New York and 
Boston for two decades — save for that brief transcendent hour 
when Charles S. Mellen saw himself destined to become transpor- 
tation overlord of New England and appropriated Roundtree for 
a personal servant and porter of his private car. Roundtree is a 
negro of the very finest type. He is a man who commands re- 
spect and dignity — and receives it. And Roundtree, as porter 
of the Pullman smoker on the Merchants' Limited, has learned to 
anticipate. 

He knows at least five hundred of the big bankers and business 
men of both New York and Boston — though he knows the Bos- 
ton crowd best. He knows the men who belong to the Somerset 
and the Algonquin Clubs — the men who are Boston enough to 
pronounce Peabody ^'Pebbuddy." And they know him. Some 
of them have a habit of dropping in at the New Haven ticket 
offices and demanding: " Is Eugene running up on the Merchants* 
to-night?" 

"It is n't just knowing them and being able to call them by 
their names," he will tell you if you can catch him in one of his 
rarely idle moments. "I've got to remember what they smoke 
and what they drink. When Mr. Blank tells me he wants a cigar 



224 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

it's my job to remember what he smokes and to put it before him. 
I don't ask him what he wants. I anticipate." 

And by anticipating Roundtree approaches a sort of nth degree 
of service and receives one of the "fattest" of all the Pullman 
runs. 

George Sylvester is another man of the Roundtree type — only 
his run trends to the west from New York instead of to the east, 
which means that he has a somewhat different t3T)e of patron 
with which to deal. 

Sylvester is a porter on the Twentieth Century Limited ; and, 
like Roundtree, he is a colored man of far more than ordinary 
force and character. He had opportunity to show both on a win- 
ter night, when his train was stopped and a drunken man — a 
man who was making life hideous for other passengers on Sylves- 
ter's car — was taken from the train. The fact tliat the man was 
a powerful politician, a man who raved the direst threats when 
arrested, made the porter's job the more difficult. 

The Pullman Company, in this instance alone, had good 
cause to remember Sylvester's force and courage — and con- 
summate tact — just as it has good cause in many such episodes 
to be thankful for the cool-headedness of its black man in a blue 
uniform who stands in immediate control of its property. 

Sylvester prefers to forget that episode. He likes to think of 
the nice part of the Centiu-y's runs — the passengers who are 
quiet, and kind, and thoughtful, and remembering. They are a 
sort whom it is a pleasure for a porter to serve. They are the 
people who make an excess-fare train a "fat run." There are 
other fat runs, of course: the Overland, the Olympian, the 
Congressional — and of General Henry Forrest, of the Congres- 
sional, more in a moment — fat trains that follow the route 
of the Century. 

It was on one of these, coming east from Cleveland on a snowy 
night in February last, that a resourceful porter had full use for 
his store of tact; for there is, in the community that has begun to 
stamp Sixth City on its shirts and its shoe tabs, a h&nk president 
who — to put the matter lightly — is a particular traveler. 
More than one black man, rising high in porter service, has had 
his vanity come to grief when this crotchety personage has come 
on his car. 

And the man himself was one of those who are marked up and 
down the Pullman trails. An unwritten code was being trans- 
mitted between the black brethren of the sleeping cars as to his 



YOUR PORTER 225 

whims and peculiarities. It was well that every brother in service 
in the Cleveland district should know the code. When Mr. X 
entered his drawing-room — he never rides elsewhere in the car 
— shades were to be drawn, a pillow beaten and ready by the 
window, and matches on the window sill. X would never ask for 
these things; but God help the poor porter who forgot them! 

So you yourself can imagine the emotions of Whittlesey War- 
ren, porter of the car Thanatopsis, bound east on Number Six on 
the snowy February night when X came through the portals of 
that scarabic antique, the Union Depot at Cleveland, a redcap 
with his grips in the wake. Warren recognized his man. The 
code took good care as to that. He followed the banker down 
the aisle, tucked away the bags, pulled down the shades, fixed the 
pillow and placed the matches on the window sill. 

The banker merely grunted approval, lighted a big black cigar 
and went into the smoker, while Warren gave some passing atten- 
tion to the other patrons of his car. It was passing attention at 
the best; for after a time the little bell annunciator began to sing 
merrily and persistently at him — and invariably its command- 
ing needle pointed to D. R. And on the drawing-room Whittle- 
sey Warren danced a constant attention. 

"Here, you nigger!" X shouted at the first response. "How 
many times have I got to tell all of you to put the head of my bed 
toward the engine.^" 

Whittlesey Warren looked at the bed. He knew the make-up 
of the train. The code had been met. The banker's pillows 
were toward the locomotive. But his job was not to argue and 
dispute. He merely said: 

" Yas-suh. Scuse me! " And he remade the bed while X lit a 
stogy and went back to the smoker. 

That was at Erie — Erie, and the snow was falling more briskly 
than at Cleveland. Slowing into Dunkirk, the banker returned 
and glanced through the car window. He could see by the snow 
against the street lamps that the train was apparently running in 
the opposite direction. His chubby finger went against the push 
button. Whittlesey Warren appeared at the door. The lan- 
guage that followed cannot be reproduced in The Saturday 
Evening Post. Suffice it to say that the porter remembered 
who he was and what he was, and merely remade the bed. 

The banker bit off the end of another cigar and retired once 
again to the club car. When he returned, the train was backing 
into the Buffalo station. At that unfortunate moment he raised 



226 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

his car shade — and Porter Whittlesey Warren again reversed 
the bed, to the accompaniment of the most violent abuse that 
had ever been heaped on his defenseless head. 

Yet not once did he complain — he remembered that a servant 
a servant always is. And in the morning X must have remem- 
bered; for a folded bill went into Warren's palm — a bill of a de- 
nomination large enough to buy that fancy vest which hung in a 
haberdasher's shop over on San Juan Hill. 

If 3^ou have been asking yourself all this while just what a fat. 
run is, here is your answer; Tips; a fine train filled with fine ladies 
and fine gentlemen, not all of them so cranky as X, of Cleveland 
— thank heaven for that! — though a good many of them have 
their peculiarities and are willing to pay generously for the pri\d- 
lege of indulging those peculiarities. 

Despite the rigid discipline of the Pullman Company the por- 
ter's leeway is a very considerable one. His instructions are 
never to say ''Against the rules!" but rather "I do not know 
what can be done about it" — and then to make a quick reference 
to the Pullman conductor, who is his arbiter and his court of last 
resort. His own initiative, however, is not small. 

Two newspaper men in New York know that. They had gone 
over to Boston for a week-end, had separated momentarily at its 
end, to meet at the last of the afternoon trains for Gotham. A 
had the joint finances and tickets for the trip; but B, hurrying 
through the traffic tangle of South Station, just ninety seconds 
before the moment of departure, knew^ that he would find him al- 
ready in the big Pullman observation car. He was not asked to 
show his ticket at the train gate. Boston, with the fine spirit of 
the Tea Party still flowing in its blue veins, has always resented 
that as a sort of railroad impertinence. 

B did not find A. He did not really search for him until Back 
Bay was passed and the train was on the first leg of its journey, 
with the next stop at Providence. Then it was that A was not to 
be found. Then B realized that his side partner had missed the 
train. He dropped into a corner and searched his own pockets. 
A battered quarter and three pennies came to view — and the 
fare from Boston to Pro\'idence is ninety cents! 

Then it was that the initiative of a well-trained Pullman porter 
came into play. He had stood over the distressed B while he was 
making an inventory of his resources. 

"Done los' something, boss?" said the autocrat of the car. 

B told the black man his story in a quick, straightforward man- 



YOUR PORTER 227 

ner; and the black man looked into his eyes. B returned the 
glance. Perhaps he saw in that honest ebony face something of 
the expression of the faithful servants of wartime who refused to 
leave their masters even after utter ruin had come upon them. 
The porter drew forth a fat roll of bills. 

"Ah guess dat, ef you-all'll give meh yo' business cyard, Ah '11 
be able to fee-nance yo' trip dis time." 

To initiative the black man was adding intuition. He had 
studied his man. He was forever using his countless opportunities 
to study men. It was not so much of a gamble as one might sup- 
pose. 

A pretty well-known editor was saved from a mighty embar- 
rassing time; and some other people have been saved from simi- 
larly embarrassing situations through the intuition and the re- 
sources of the Pullman porter. The conductor — both of the 
train and of the sleeping-car service — is not permitted to exer- 
cise such initiative or intuition; but the porter can do and fre- 
quently does things of this very sort. His recompense for them, 
however, is hardly to be classed as a tip. 

The tip is the nub of the whole situation. Almost since the 
very day when the Pioneer began to blaze the trail of luxury over 
the railroads of the land, and the autocrat of the Pullman car 
created his servile but entirely honorable calling, it has been a 
mooted point. Recently a great Federal commission has blazed 
the strong light of publicity on it. Robert T. Lincoln, son of the 
Emancipator, and, as we have already said, the head and front of 
the Pullman Company, sat in a witness chair at Washington and 
answered some pretty pointed questions as to the division of the 
porter's income between the company and the passenger who em- 
ployed him. Wages, it appeared, are twenty-seven dollars and a 
half a month for the first fifteen years of the porter's service, in- 
creasing thereafter to thirty dollars a month, slightly augmented 
by bonuses for good records. 

The porter also receives his uniforms free after ten years of 
service, and in some cases of long service his pay may reach forty- 
two dollars a month. The rest of his income is in the form of tips. 
And Mr. Lincoln testified that during the past year the total of 
these tips, to the best knowledge and belief of his company, had 
exceeded two million three hundred thousand dollars. 

The Pullman Company is not an eleemosynary institution. 
Though it has made distinct advances in the establishment of 
pension funds and death benefits, it is hardly to be classed as a 



228 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

philanthropy. It is a large organization ; and it generally is what 
it chooses to consider itself. Sometimes it avers that it is a trans- 
portation company, at other times it prefers to regard itself as a 
hotel organization; but at all times it is a business proposition. 
It is not in business for its health. Its dividend record is proof of 
that. All of which is a preface to the statement that the Pullman 
Company, like any other large user of labor, regulates its wage 
scale by supply and demand. If it can find enough of the colored 
brethren competent and willing and anxious to man its cars at 
twenty-seven dollars and a half a month — with the fair gamble 
of two or three or four times that amount to come in the form of 
tips — it is hardly apt to pay more. 

No wonder, then, the tip forms the nub of the situation. To- 
day all America tips. You tip the chauffeur in the taxi, the red- 
cap in the station, the barber, the bootblack, the manicure, the 
boy or girl who holds your coat for you in the barber's shop or 
hotel. In the modern hotel tipping becomes a vast and complex 
thing — waiters, doormen, hat boys, chambermaids, bell boys, 
porters — the list seems almost unending. 

The system may be abominable, but it has certainly fastened 
itself on us — sternly and securely. And it may be said for the 
Pullman car that there, at least, the tip comes to a single servitor 
— the black autocrat who smiles genially no matter how suspi- 
ciously he may, at heart, view the quarter you have placed within 
his palm. 

A quarter seems to be the standard Pullman tip — for one 
person, each night he may be on the car. Some men give more; 
some men — alas for poor George! — less. A quarter is not only 
average but fairly standard. It is given a certain official status 
by the auditing officers of many large railroads and industrial 
corporations, who recognize it as a chargeable item in the expense 
accounts of their men on the road. 

A man with a fat run — lower berths all occupied, with at 
least a smattering of riders in the uppers, night after night — 
ought to be able easily to put aside a hundred and fifty dollars a 
month as his income from this item. There are hundreds of por- 
ters who are doing this very thing; and there are at least dozens of 
porters who own real estate, automobiles, and other such material 
evidences of prosperity. 

A tip is not necessarily a humiliation, either to the giver or to 
the taker. On the contrary, it is a token of meritorious service. 
And the smart porter is going to take good care that he gives such 



YOUR PORTER 229 

service. But how about the porter who is not so smart — the 
man who has the lean run? As every butcher and every trans- 
portation man knows, there is lean with the fat. And it does the 
lean man little good to know that his fat brother is preparing to 
buy a secondhand automobile. On the contrary, it creates an 
anarchist — or at least a socialist — down under that black 
skin. 

Here is Lemuel — cursed with a lean run and yet trying to 
maintain at least an appearance of geniahty. Lemuel runs on a 
" differential " between New York, Chicago and St. Louis. Every 
passenger-traffic man knows that most of the differentials — as 
the roads that take longer hours, and so are permitted to charge a 
slightly lower through fare between those cities, are called — 
have had a hard time of it in recent years. It is the excess-fare 
trains, the highest-priced carriers — which charge you a premium 
of a dollar for every hour they save in placing you in the terminal 

— that are the crowded trains. And the differentials have had 
increasing difficulty getting through passengers. 

It seems that in this day and land a man who goes from New 
York to Chicago Or St. Louis is generally so well paid as to make 
it worth dollars to him to save hours in the journey. It is mod- 
ern efficiency showing itself in railroad-passenger travel. But 
the differentials, having local territory to serve, as well as on ac- 
count of some other reasons, must maintain a sleeping-car service 

— even at a loss. There is little or no loss to the Pullman Com- 
pany — you may be sure of that! The railroad pays it a mileage 
fee for hauling a half or three-quarter empty car over its own line 

— in addition to permitting the Pullman system to take all the 
revenue from the car; but Lemuel sees his end of the business as a 
dead loss. 

He leaves New York at two-thirty o'clock on Monday after- 
noon, having reported at his car nearly three hours before so as to 
make sure that it is properly stocked and cleaned for its long trip. 
He is due at St. Louis at ten-fifteen on Tuesday evening — 
though it will be nearly two hours later before he has checked the 
contents of the car and slipped off to the bunking quarters main- 
tained there by his company. 

On Wednesday evening at seven o'clock he starts east and is 
due in New York about dawn on Friday morning. He cleans up 
his car and himself, and gets to his little home on the West Side 
of Manhattan Island sometime before noon; but by noon on Sat- 
urday he must be back at his car, making sure that it is fit and. 



230 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

ready by two-thirty o'clock — the moment the conductor's arm 
falls — and they are headed west again. 

This time the destination is Chicago, which is not reached until 
about six o'clock Sunday night. He bunks that night in the 
Windy City and then spends thirty-two hours going back again 
to New York. He sees his home one more night; then he is off to 
St. Louis again — started on a fresh round of his eternal schedule. 

Talk of tips to Lemuel ! His face lengthens. You maj^ not be- 
lieve it, white man, but Lemuel made fifty-three cents in tips on 
the last trip from New York to Chicago. You can understand 
the man who gave him the Columbian antique; but Lemuel be- 
lieves there can be no future too warm for that skinny man who 
gave him the three pennies! He thinks the gentleman might at 
least have come across with a Subway ticket. It is all legal ten- 
der to him. 

All that saves this porter's bacon is the fact that he is in charge 
of the car — for some three hundred miles of its eastbound run he 
is acting as sleeping-car conductor, for which consolidated job he 
draws down a proportionate share of forty-two dollars a month. 
This is a small sop, however, to Lemuel. He turns and tells you 
how, on the last trip, he came all the way from St. Louis to New 
York — two nights on the road — without ever a ''make-down," 
as he calls preparing a berth. No wonder then that he has diffi- 
culty in making fifty dollars a month, with his miserable tips on 
the lean run. 

Nor is that all. Though Lemuel is permitted three hours' 
sleep — on the bunk in the washroom on the long runs — from 
midnight to three o'clock in the morning, there may come other 
times when his head begins to nod. And those are sure to be the 
times when some lynx-eyed inspector com.es slipping aboard. 
Biff! Bang! Pullman disciphne is strict. Something has hap- 
pened to Lemuel's pay envelope, and his coffee-colored wife in 
West Twenty-ninth Street will not be able to get those gray spats 
until they are clean gone out of style. 

What can be done for Lemuel.'* He must bide his time and 
constantly make himself a better servant — a better porter, if 
you please. It will not go unnoticed. The Pullman system has 
a method for noticing those very things — inconsequential in 
themselves but all going to raise the standard of its service. 

Then some fine day something will happen. A big sleeping- 
car autocrat, in the smugness and false security of a fat run, is 
going to err. He is going to step on the feet of some important 



YOUR PORTER 231 

citizen — perhaps a railroad director — and the important citizen 
is going to make a fuss. After which Lemuel, hard-schooled in 
adversity, in faithfulness and in courtesy, will be asked in the 
passing of a night to change places with the old autocrat. 

And the old autocrat, riding in the poverty of a lean run, will 
have plenty of opportunity to count the telegraph poles and re- 
flect on the mutability of men and things. The Pullman Com- 
pany denies that this is part of its system; but it does happen — 
time and time and time again. 

George, or Lemuel, or Alexander — whatever the name may 
be — has no easy job. If you do not believe that, go upstairs 
some hot summer night to the rear bedroom — that little room 
under the blazing tin roof which you reserve for your relatives — 
and make up the bed fifteen or twenty times, carefully unmaking 
it between times and placing the clothes away in a regular posi- 
tion. Let your family nag at you and criticize you during each 
moment of the job — while somebody plays an obbligato on the 
electric bell and places shoes and leather grips underneath your 
feet. Imagine the house is bumping and rocking — and keep a 
smiling face and a courteous tongue throughout all of it! 

Or do this on a bitter night in midwinter; and between every 
two or three makings of the bed in the overheated room slip out of 
a linen coat and into a fairly thin serge one and go and stand out- 
side the door from three to ten minutes in the snow and cold. 
In some ways this is one of the hardest parts of George's job. 
Racially the negro is peculiarly sensitive to pneumonia and other 
pulmonary diseases; yet the rules of a porter's job require that at 
stopping stations he must be outside of the car — no matter what 
the hour or condition of the climate — smiling and ready to say: 

"What space you got, guv'nor.?*" 

However, the porter's job, like nearly every other job, has its 
glories as well as its hardships — triumphs that can be told and 
retold for many a day to fascinated colored audiences; because 
there are special trains — filled with pursy and prosperous bank- 
ers from Hartford and Rochester and Terre Haute — making 
the trip from coast to coast and back again, and never forgetting 
the porter at the last hour of the last day. 

There are many men in the Pullman service like Roger Pryor, 
who has ridden with every recent President of the land and en- 
joyed his confidence and respect. And then there is General 
Henry Forrest, of the Congressional Limited, for twenty-four 
years in charge of one of its broiler cars, who stops not at Presi- 



232 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

dents but enjoys the acquaintance of senators and ambassadors 
almost without number. 

The General comes to know these dignitaries by their feet. 
When he is standing at the door of his train under the Pennsyl- 
vania Terminal, in New York, he recognizes the feet as they come 
poking down the long stairs from the concourse. And he can 
make his smile senatorial or ambassadorial — a long time in ad- 
vance. 

Once Forrest journeyed in a private car to San Francisco, car- 
ing for a Certain Big Man. He took good care of the Certain Big 
Man — that was part of his job. He took extra good care of the 
Certain Big Man — that was his opportunity. And when the 
Certain Big Man reached the Golden Gate he told Henry Forrest 
that he had understood and appreciated the countless attentions. 
The black face of the porter wrinkled into smiles. He dared to 
venture an observation. 

''Ah thank you, Jedge! " said he. "An' ef it would n't be tres- 
passin' Ah'd lak to say dat when yo' comes home you's gwine to 
be President of dese tJnited States." 

The Certain Big Man shook his head negatively; but he was 
flattered nevertheless. He leaned over and spoke to Henry For- 
rest. 

'' If ever I am President," said he, " I will make you a general." 

And so it came to pass that on the bhzzardy Dakota-made day 
when William Howard Taft was inaugurated President of these 
United States there was a parade — a parade in which many men 
rode in panoply and pride; but none was prouder there than he 
who, mounted on a magnificent bay horse, headed the Philippine 
Band. 

A promise was being kept. The bay horse started three times 
to bolt from the line of march, and this was probably because its 
rider was better used to the Pompeian-red broiler car than to a 
Pompeian-red bay mare. But these were mere trifles. Despite 
them — partly because of them perhaps — the younger brethren 
at the terminals were no longer to address the veteran from the 
Congressional merely as Mr. Forrest. He was General Forrest 
now — a title he bears proudly and which he will carry with him 
all the long years of his life. 

What becomes of the older porters.'* 

Sometimes, when the rush of the fast trains, the broken nights, 
the exposure and the hard, hard work begin to be too much for 
even sturdy Afric frames, they go to the "super" and beg for the 
"sick man's run" — a leisurely sixty or a hundred miles a day on 



THE GENTLE ART OF BLOWING BOTTLES 233 

a parlor car, perhaps on a side line where travel is light and the 
parlor car is a sort of sentimental frippery; probably one of the 
old wooden cars: the Ahcia, or the Lucille, or the Celeste, still 
vain in bay windows and grilles, and abundant in carvings. For 
a sentimental frippery may be given a feminine name and may 
bear her years gracefully — even though she does creak in all her 
hundred joints when the track is the least bit uneven. 

As to the sick man's tips, the gratuity is no less a matter of 
keen interest and doubt at sixty than it is at twenty-six. And 
though there is a smile under that clean mat of kinky white hair, 
it is not all habit — some of it is still anticipation. But quarters 
and half dollars do not come so easily to the old man in the parlor 
car as to his younger brother on the sleepers, or those elect who 
have the smokers on the fat runs. To the old men come dimes 
instead — some of them miserable affairs bearing on their worn 
faces the faint presentments of the ruler on the north side of Lake 
Erie and hardly redeemable in Baltimore or Cincinnati. Yet 
even these are hardly to be scorned — when one is sixty. 

After the sick man's job.? Perhaps a sandy farm on a Carolina 
hillside, where an old man may sit and nod in the warm sun, and 
dream of the days when steel cars were new — perhaps of the days 
when the platform- vestibule first went bounding over the rails — 
may dream and nod; and then, in his waking moments, stir the 
pickaninnies to the glories of a career on a fast train and a fat run. 
For if it is true that any white boy has the potential opportunity 
of becoming President of the United States, it is equally true that 
any black boy may become the Autocrat of the Pullman Car. 



(The Independent) 

THE GENTLE ART OF BLOWING BOTTLES 
And the Story of How Sand is Melted into Glass 

By F. GREGORY HARTSWICK 

Remedies for our manifold ills; the refreshment that our in- 
fant lips craved; coolness in time of heat; yes — even tho July 
1st has come and gone — drafts to assuage our thirst; the divers 
stays and supports of our declining years — all these things 
come in bottles. From the time of its purchase to the moment 
of its consignment to the barrel in the cellar or the rapacious 
wagon of the rag-and-bone man the bottle plays a vital part in 



234 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

our lives. And as with most inconspicuous necessities, but little 
is known of its history. We assume vaguely that it is blown — 
ever since we saw the Bohemian Glass Blowers at the World's 
Fair we have known that glass is blown into whatever shape 
fancy may dictate — but that is as far as our knowledge of its 
manufacture extends. 

As a matter of fact the production of bottles in bulk is one of 
the most important features of the glass industry of this country 
today. The manufacture of window glass fades into insignficance 
before the hugeness of the bottle-making business; and even the 
advent of prohibition, while it lessens materially the demand for 
glass containers of liquids, does not do so in such degree as to 
warrant very active uneasiness on the part of the proprietors 
of bottle factories. 

The process of manufacture of the humble bottle is a sur- 
prizingly involved one. It includes the transportation and 
preparation of raw material, the reduction of the material to a 
proper state of workability, and the shaping of the material 
according to design, before the bottle is ready to go forth on its 
mission. 

The basic material of which all glass is made is, of course, sand. 
Not the brown sand of the river-bed, the well remembered 
"sandy bottom" of the swimmin' hole of our childhood, but the 
finest of white sand from the prehistoric ocean-beds of our coim- 
try. This sand is brought to the factory and there mixed by 
experts with coloring matter and a flux to aid the melting. On 
the tint of the finished product depends the sort of coloring agent 
used. For clear white glass, called flint glass, no color is added. 
The mixing of a copper salt with the sand gives a greenish tinge 
to the glass; amber glass is obtained by the addition of an iron 
compound; and a little cobalt in the mixture gives the finished 
bottle the clear blue tone that used to greet the waking eye as it 
searched the room for something to allay that morning's morn- 
ing feeling. The flux used is old glass — bits of shattered bottles, 
scraps from the floor of the factory. This broken glass is called 
"cullet," and is carefully swept into piles and kept in bins for 
use in the furnaces. 

The sand, coloring matter, and cullet, when mixed in the 
proper proportions, form what is called in bottle-makers' talk 
the "batch" or ''dope." This batch is put into a specially 
constructed furnace — a brick box about thirty feet long by 
fifteen wide, and seven feet high at the crown of the arched 
roof. This furnace is made of the best refractory blocks to 



THE GENTLE ART OF BLOWING BOTTLES 235 

withstand the fierce heat necessary to bring the batch to a 
molten state. The heat is suppHed by various fuels — pro- 
ducer-gas is the most conamon, tho oil is sometimes used. The 
gas is forced into the furnace and mixed with air at its incep- 
tion; when the mixture is ignited the flame rolls down across 
the batch, and the burnt gases pass out of the furnace on the 
other side. The gases at their exit pass thru a brick grating or 
''checkerboard," which takes up much of the heat; about every 
half hour, by an arrangement of valves, the inlet of the gas be- 
comes the outlet, and vice versa, so that the heat taken up 
by the checkerboard is used instead of being dissipated, and as 
little of the heat of combustion is lost as is possible. The batch 
is put into the furnace from the rear; as it liquefies it flows to the 
front, where it is drawn off thru small openings and blown into 
shape. 

The temperature in the furnace averages about 2100 de- 
grees Fahrenheit; it is lowest at the rear, where the batch is fed 
in, and graduates to its highest point just behind the openings 
thru which the glass is drawn off. This temperature is measured 
by special instruments called thermal couples — two metals 
joined and placed in the heat of the flame. The heat sets up 
an electric current in the joined metals, and this current is read 
on a galvanometer graduated to read degrees Fahrenheit instead 
of volts, so that the temperature may be read direct. 

All furnaces for the melting of sand for glass are essentially 
the same in construction and principle. The radical differences 
in bottle manufacturing appear in the methods used in drawing 
off the glass and blowing it into shape. 

Glass is blown by three methods: hand-blowing, semi-auto- 
matic blowing, and automatic blowing. The first used was the 
hand method, and tho the introduction of machines is rapidly 
making the old way a back number, there are still factories where 
the old-time glass blower reigns supreme. 

One of the great centers of the bottle industry in the United 
States is down in the southern end of New Jersey. Good sand 
is dug there — New Jersey was part of the bed of the Atlantic 
before it literally rose to its present state status — and naturally 
the factories cluster about the source of supply of material. 
Within a radius of thirty miles the investigator may see bottles 
turned out by all three methods. 

The hand-blowing, while it is the slowest and most expensive 
means of making bottles, is by far the most picturesque. Imagine 
a long, low, dark building — dark as far as daylight is concerned, 



236 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

but weirdly lit by orange and scarlet flashes from the great fur- 
naces that crouch in its shelter. At the front of each of these 
squatting monsters, men, silhouetted against the fierce glow 
from the doors, move about like puppets on wires — any noise 
they may make is drowned in the mastering roar of the fire. A 
worker thrusts a long blowpipe (in glass workers' terminology 
a wand) into the molten mass in the furnace and twirls it rapidly. 
The end of the wand, armed with a ball of refractory clay, collects 
a ball of semi-liquid glass; the worker must estimate the amount 
of glass to be withdrawn for the particular size of the bottle that 
is to be made. This ball of glowing material is withdrawn from 
the furnace; the worker rolls it on a sloping moldboard, shaping 
it to a cylinder, and passes the wand to the blower who is standing 
ready to receive it. The blower drops the cylinder of glass into a 
mold, which is held open for its reception by yet another man; 
the mold snaps shut; the blower applies his mouth to the end of 
the blowpipe; a quick puff, accompanied by the drawing away 
of the wand, blows the glass to shape in the mold and leaves a 
thin bubble of glass protruding above. The mold is opened; the 
shaped bottle, still faintly glowing, is withdrawn with a pair of 
asbestos-lined pincers, and passed to a man who chips off the 
bubble on a rough strip of steel, after which he gives the bottle to 
one who sits guarding a tiny furnace in which oil sprayed under 
pressure roars and flares. The rough neck of the bottle goes into 
the flame; the raw edges left when the bubble was chipped off are 
smoothed away by the heat; the neck undergoes a final polishing 
and shaping twirl in the jaws of a steel instrument, and the bot- 
tle is laid on a little shelf to be carried away. It is shaped, but 
not finished. 

The glass must not be cooled too quickly, lest it be brittle. It 
must be annealed — cooled slowly — in order to withstand the 
rough usage to which it is to be subjected. The annealing proc- 
ess takes place in a long, brick tunnel, heated at one end, and 
gradually cooling to atmospheric temperature at the other. The 
bottles are placed on a moving platform, which slowly carries 
them from the heated end to the cool end. The process takes 
about thirty hours. At the cool end of the annealing furnace the 
bottle is met by the packers and is made ready for shipment. 
These anneahng furnaces are called *4ehrs" or *' leers" — either 
spelling is correct — and the most searching inquiry failed to dis- 
cover the reason for the name. They have always been called 
that, and probably always will be. 

In the hand-blowing process six men are needed to make one 



THE GENTLE ART OF BLOWING BOTTLES 237 

bottle. There must be a gatherer to draw the glass from the 
furnace; a blower; a man to handle the mold; a man to chip off 
the bubble left by the blower; a shaper to finish the neck of the 
bottle; and a carrier-off to take the completed bottles to the 
lehr. Usually the gatherer is also the blower, in which case two 
men are used, one blowing while the other gathers for his turn; 
but on one platform I saw the somewhat unusual sight of one man 
doing all the blowing while another gathered for him. The pair 
used two wands, so that their production was the same as tho 
two men were gathering and blowing. This particular blower 
was making quart bottles, and he was well qualified for the job. 
He weighed, at a conservative estimate, two hundred and fifty 
pounds, and when he blew something had to happen. I arrived 
at his place of labor just as the shifts were being changed — a 
glass-furnace is worked continuously, in three eight-hour shifts 
— and as the little whistle blew to announce the end of his day's 
toil the giant grabbed the last wand, dropped it into the waiting 
mold, and blew a mighty blast. A bubble of glass sprang from 
the mouth of the mold, swelled to two feet in diameter, and burst 
with a bang, filling the air with shimmering flakes of glass, light 
enough to be wafted like motes. When the shining shower had 
settled and I had opened my eyes — it would not be pleasant to 
get an eyeful of those beautiful scraps — the huge blower was 
diminishing in perspective toward his dinner, and the furnace 
door was, for the moment, without its usual hustling congrega- 
tion of workers. I made bold to investigate the platform. 

Close to me glared the mouth of the furnace, with masses 
of silver threads depending from it like the beard of some fiery 
gulleted ogre — the strings of glass left by the withdrawal of the 
wand. The heat three feet away was enough to make sand 
melt and run like water, but I was not unpleasantly warm. This 
was because I stood at the focus of three tin pipes, thru which 
streams of cold air, fan-impelled, beat upon me. Without this 
cooling agent it would be impossible for men to work so close to 
the heat of the molten glass. 

Later, in the cool offices of the company, where the roar of the 
furnaces penetrated only as a dull undertone, and electric fans 
whizzed away the heat of the sununer afternoon, I learned more of 
the technique of the bottle industry. Each shape demanded by 
the trade requires a special mold, made of cast iron and cut 
according to the design submitted. There are, of course, stand- 
ard shapes for standard bottles; these are alluded to (reversing 
the usual practise of metonymy) by using thing contained for 



238 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

container, as "ginger ales," "olives," "mustards," "sodas" and 
(low be it spoken) " beers." But when a firm places an order 
for bottles of a particular shape, or ones with lettering in relief 
on the glass, special molds must be made; and after the lot is 
finished the molds are useless till another order for that particular 
design comes in. A few standard molds are made so that plates 
with lettering can be inserted for customers who want trade- 
marks or firm names on their bottles; but the great majority of 
the lettered bottles have their own molds, made especially for 
them and unable to be used for any other lot. 

All bottles are blown in molds; it is in the handling of the 
molten glass and the actual blowing that machinery has come to 
take the place of men in the glass industry. The first type of 
machine to be developed was for blowing the bottle and finish- 
ing it, thus doing away with three of the six men formerly em- 
ployed in making one bottle. In appearance the bottle-blowing 
machine is merely two circular platforms, revolving in the same 
horizontal plane, each carrying five molds. , One of the platforms 
revolves close to the furnace door, and as each mold comes around 
it automatically opens and the gatherer draws from the furnace 
enough glass for the bottle which is being made at the time, and 
places it in the mold. The mold closes, and the platform turns 
on, bringing around another mold to the gatherer. Meanwhile 
a nozzle has snapped down over the first mold, shaping the neck 
of the bottle, and beginning the blowing. As the mold comes 
to a point diametrically opposite the furnace door it opens again, 
and a handler takes the blank, as the bottle is called at this stage, 
and places it in a mold on the second revolving platform. This 
mold closes and compressed air blows out the bottle as the 
platform revolves. As the mold comes around to the handler 
again it opens and the handler takes out the finished bottle, 
replacing it with a new blank drawn from the mold on the first 
platform. This operation necessitates only three men — a 
gatherer, a handler, and a carrier-off. It is also much faster 
than the old method — an average of about forty bottles per 
minute as against barely twenty. 

A newer development of this machine does away with the 
gatherer. A long rod of refractory clay is given a churning 
movement in the mouth of the furnace, forcing the molten glass 
thru a tube. As enough glass for one bottle appears at the mouth 
of the tube a knife cuts the mass and the blob of glass falls into 
a trough which conveys it to the^ blank mold. By an ingenious 
device the same trough is made to feed three or four machinea 



THE GENTLE ART OF BLOWING BOTTLES 239 

at one time. As many as fifty bottles a minute can be turned 
out by this combination blowing machine and feeder. 

But the apotheosis of bottle-making is to be seen in another 
factory in the south Jersey district. Here it is the boast of the 
superintendents that from the time the sand goes out of the freight 
cars in which it is brought to the plant till the finished bottle 
is taken by the packer, no human hand touches the product; and 
their statement is amply confirmed by a trip thru the plant. The 
sand, coloring matter and cullet are in separate bins; an electrical 
conveyor takes enough of each for a batch to a mixing machine; 
from there the batch goes on a long belt to the furnace. At 
the front of the furnace, instead of doors or mouths, is a revolv- 
ing "pan, kept level full with the molten glass. Outside the 
furnace revolves a huge machine with ten arms, each of which 
carries its own mold and blowpipe. As each arm passes over 
the pan in the furnace the proper amount of glass is sucked 
into the mold by vacuum; the bottle is blown and shaped in 
the course of one revolution, and the mold, opening, drops the 
finished bottle into a rack which carries it to the lehr on a belt. 
It passes thru the lehr to the packers; and as each rack is emp- 
tied of its bottles the packers place it again on the belt, which 
carries it up to the machine, where it collects its cargo of hot 
bottles and conducts it again thru the lehr. The entire plant 
— mixing, feeding, actually making the bottles, delivery to the 
lehr, and packing — is synchronized exactly. Men unload the 
cars of sand — men pack the bottles. The intermediate period 
is entirely mechanical. The plant itself is as well lighted and 
ventilated as a department store, and except in the immediate 
vicinity of the furnace there is no heat felt above the daily tem- 
perature. The machines average well over a bottle a second, and 
by an exceedingly clever arrangement of electrical recording ap- 
pliances an accurate record of the output of each machine, as well 
as the temperatures of the furnaces and lehrs, is kept in the offices 
of the company. The entire equipment is of the most modern, 
from the boilers and motors in the power-plant and producer-ga's- 
plant to the packing platforms. In addition, the plant boasts 
a complete machine shop where all the molds are made and the 
machines repaired. 

It is a far cry from human lung-power to the super-efficient 
machinery of the new plants; but it is the logical progress of 
human events, applying to every product of man's hands, from 
battleships to — bottles. 



240 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

{New Ycyrk World) 

One illustration, a haK-tone reproduction of a photograph of the 
exterior of the theater. 

THE NEIGHBORHOOD PLAYHOUSE 

A Gift to the East Side — How the Settlement 

Work of Misses Irene and Alice Lewisohn 

has Culminated at Last in a Real 

Theatre — Its Attractions and 

Educational Value 

The piece is the Biblical "Jephthah's Daughter," adapted 
from the Book of Judges. The hero, "a mighty man of valor," 
has conquered the enemies of his people. There is great rejoicing 
over his victory, for the tribe of Israel has been at its weakest. 
But now comes payment of the price of conquest. The leader of 
the victorious host promised to yield to God as a burnt sacrifice 
''whatsoever cometh forth from the doors of my house to meet 
me when I return from battle." And his daughter came forth. 

In the last act, the girl herself, young and beautiful, advances 
toward the altar on which fagots have been piled high. In her 
hand is the lighted torch which is to kindle her own death fire. 

The chorus chants old Hebraic melodies. Even the audience 
joins in the singing. The play takes on the aspect of an ancient 
reUgious ceremonial. Old men and women are in tears, moved by 
the sad history of their race, forgetful of the horror of human 
sacrifice in the intensity of their religious fervor. 

Such is the artistry of the piece; such the perfection of its 
production. 

Yet this is no professional performance, but the work of ama^ 
teurs. It is the opening night of the new community theatre of 
New York's densely populated East Side. 

At No. 466 Grand Street it stands, far away from Broadway's 
theatrical district — a low-lying, Httle Georgian building. It is 
but three stories high, built of Hght red brick, and finished with 
white marble. All around garish millinery shops display their 
showy goods. Peddlers with pushcarts Ht by flickering flames, 
vie with each other in their array of gaudy neckties and bargain 
shirtwaists. Blazing electric signs herald the thrills of movie 
shows. And, salient by the force of extreme contrast, a plain little 
white posterboard makes its influence felt. It is lit by two iron 
lanterns, and reads simply, ''The Neighborhood Playhouse." 



THE NEIGHBORHOOD PLAYHOUSE 241 

The Misses Irene and Alice Lewisohn of No. 43 Fifth Avenue 
have built this theatre. It is their gift to the neighborhood, 
and symbolizes the culmination of a work which they have shared 
with the neighborhood's people. 

Eight years ago the Henry Street Settlement started its scheme 
of festivals and pantomimes, portraying through the medium of 
color, song, and dance such vague ideas as ''Impressions of 
Spring." It was the boys and girls of the Settlement who per- 
formed in these pantomimes. It was they who made the cos- 
tumes, painted the necessary scenery, sang and danced. 

And both daughters of the late Leonard Lewisohn were always 
interested and active in promoting this work. 

Out of it, in due time, there developed, quite naturally, a dra- 
matic club. Plays were given in the Settlement gymnasium — 
full-grown pieces like ''The Silver Box," by John Galsworthy, and 
inspiring dramas like "The Shepherd," a plea for Russian revo- 
lutionists, by an American author, Miss Olive Tilford Dargan, 
Such was the emotional response of the neighborhood to this 
drama that four performances had to be given at Clinton Hall; 
and as a result a substantial sum of money was forwarded to 
"The Friends of Russian Freedom." 

Then, in 1913, came the famous Pageant, which roused the 
entire district to a consciousness of itself — its history, its dignity 
and also its possibilities. 

That portion of the East Side which surrounds the Henry 
Street Settlement has seen many an invasion since the days when 
the Dutch first ousted the Indians. English, Quakers, Scotch 
have come and gone, leaving traces more or less distinct. The 
Irish have given place to the Italians, who have been replaced 
by the Russians. In the Pageant of 1913 all these settlers were 
represented by artistically clad groups who paraded the streets 
singing and dancing. No hall could have held the audience 
which thronged to see this performance; no host of matinee wor- 
shippers could have rivalled it in fervor of appreciation. 

When the Misses Lewisohn, then, built their new playhouse 
in Grand Street, it was not with the intention of rousing, but 
rather of satisfying, an artistic demand among the people of the 
neighborhood. And in the new home are to be continued all the 
varied activities of which the Henry Street Settlement festival 
and dramatic clubs were but the centre. It is to be a genuine 
community enterprise in which each boy and girl will have a 
share. Miss Alice Lewisohn herself thus expresses its many- 
sided work: 



242 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

**The costume designers and makers, fashioners of jewelry, 
painters and composers, musicians and seamstresses, as well as 
actors and directors, will contribute their share in varying degree. 

'•'Putting aside for a moment the higher and artistic develop- 
ment which such work must bring, there is the craftsman side, too, 
which has practical value. The young men will become familiar 
with all the handiwork of the theatre, the construction and hand- 
ling of scenery, the electrical equipment and its varied uses. It 
will be conceded, I think, that in this respect the community 
playhouse is really a college of instruction in the craft of the 
stage." 

It is a college with a very efficient and well-trained staff of 
professors. Mrs. Sarah Cowell Le Moyne, already well known 
as a teacher of elocution and acting, will be one of its members. 
Miss Grace Griswold, an experienced co-worker of the late 
Augustine Daly, will act as manager. 

The pupils of this novel school are to have amusement as well 
as work. The third floor has been planned to meet many more 
requirements than are usually considered in a theatre. Across 
the front runs a large rehearsal room, large enough to make a 
fine dance hall when occasion demands. Here, too, is a kitchen- 
ette which will be used to serve refreshments when social gather- 
ings are in progress or when an over-long rehearsal tires out the 
cast. In warm weather the flat-tiled roof will be used as a play- 
ground. It will be the scene, too, of many open air performances. 

The Neighborhood Playhouse has been open only a few weeks. 
Already it is in full swing. On the nights when the regular play- 
ers do not appear the programme consists of motion pictures and 
music. There is a charming informahty and ease about these 
entertainments; there is also genuine art, and a whole-hearted 
appreciation on the part of the neighborhood's people. 



{New York Evening Post) 

THE SINGULAR STORY OF THE MOSQUITO 

MAN 

By HELEN BULLITT LOWRY 

**Now you just hold up a minute" — the bungalow-owner 
waved an indignant hand at the man in the little car chug-chug- 
ging over the bumpy road. *'Now I just want to tell you," he 



SINGULAR STORY OF THE MOSQUITO MAN 243 

protested, "that a mosquito got into my room last night and bit 
me, and I want you to know that this has happened three times 
this week. I want it to stop." 

The man in the car had jumped out, and was turning an ani- 
mated, and aggressive, but not at all provoked, face on the com- 
plainer. 

"Are you certain your drains are not stopped up?" he asked. 

" Oh, those drains are all right. It's that damp hollow over in 
Miss K's woods that's making the trouble." 

"I'll go there immediately," said the aggressive one. "She 
promised me she would fill that place this week." 

"All right, then," answered the placated bungalow-owner, "I 
thought you'd fix it up if you found out about it. I certainly 
would n't have bought around Darien if you had not cleared this 
place of mosquitoes." 

The aggressive one plunged into the Connecticut woods and 
began his search for possible mosquito-breeding spots. He was 
the "Mosquito Man," the self-appointed guardian of the Con- 
necticut coast from Stamford to Westport. 

He was not born a Mosquito Man at all — in fact, he did not 
become one until he was forty years old and had retired from 
business because he had made enough money to rest and "enjoy 
life." But he did not rest, and did not get enjoyment, for the 
mosquitoes had likewise leased his place on the Sound and were 
making good their title. 

Came then big fat mosquitoes from the swamp. Came mos- 
quitoes from the salt marshes. Some lighted on the owner's nose 
and some looked for his ankles, and found them. Three days of 
this sort of rest made him decide to move away. Then, because 
he was aggressive, he became the Mosquito Man. The idea oc- 
curred to him when he had gone over to a distant island and was 
watching the building of houses. 

"This place," he said to the head carpenter, "is going to be a 
little heaven." 

"More like a little other place," growled the head carpenter. 
"Here they've dug out the centre of the island and carted it to 
the beach to make hills for the houses to be built on. One good 
rain will fill their little heaven with mosquitoes. Why don't the 
people around here drain their country.^" 

That night the Mosquito Man telephoned to a drainage 
expert in New York and demanded that he come out the next 
day. 



244 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

"I don't like to work on Sunday," the expert objected. 

" It is absolutely essential that you come at once," he was told. 
*'Can you take the first train?" 

The first train and the expert arrived in Darien at 5: 51. Be- 
fore the day was over a contract had been drawn up to the 
purport that the expert would drain the salt marshes between 
Stamford and South Norwalk for $4,000. 

The Mosquito Man now began to talk mosquitoes to every one 
who would listen and to many who did not want to listen. ' ' That 
bug," the old settlers called him at the time — for old settlers are 
very settled in their ways. The young women at the Country 
Club, whenever they saw him coming, made bets as to whether 
he would talk mosquitoes — and he always did. Every property- 
owner in the township was asked for a subscription, and some 
gave generously and some gave niggardly and some did not 
give at all. The subscriptions were voluntary, for no one 
could be forced to remove a mosquito-breeding nuisance from 
his property. This was in 1911, and only in 1915 has a mos- 
quito law been passed in Connecticut. The Mosquito Man 
was forced to use "indirect influence," which does not expedite 
matters. 

A subscription of $1,000 came from the big land corporation of 
the neighborhood, after the "indirect influence" had rather 
forcibly expressed itself. 

"I want $1,000 from you," said the Mosquito Man to the 
representative of the president — the president was in South 
America. The representative laughed, so the Mosquito Man 
spent several days explaining to him why property is more val- 
uable when it is not infested with pests. But every time that 
the $1,000 was mentioned, the representative could not restrain 
the smile. 

"Well," the Mosquito Man said, at last, "I will make the 
drainage on your property anyway, and it will cost me $2,000. 
If you want it left you will have to pay me every cent of the 
$2,000, not just the $1,000 that I am asking now. Otherwise I 
shall fill up my ditches and let you enjoy your mosquitoes." 

The representative did not laugh at this, but cabled the presi- 
dent in South America. As the president had just been at Pan- 
ama, and had seen the mosquito extermination work, the $1,000 
subscription came back by return cable. 

The Darien Board of Health also was a spot against which in- 
direct influence was knocking, for it was a rich Board of Health 



SINGULAR STORY OF THE MOSQUITO MAN 245 

with $150 at its disposal — and the Mosquito Man wanted that 
appropriation to flaunt in the faces of the old settlers. 

''God sent mosquitoes," objected one member of the Board of 
Health, "and it is going in the face of Providence to try to get rid 
of them." 

All in all, the money was raised. Some whom he asked for 
$100 gave $25, and some whom he asked for $25 gave $100, and 
some millionaires did not give at all — but a sail-maker is still 
telling proudly of how he gave $5, and ''I have n't regretted a 
cent of it since." 

The draining now commenced, and the expert and the Mos- 
quito Man were of the same stripe. The work was completed in 
six weeks. Just about this time people stopped calling the Mos- 
quito Man "a bug," and the members of the Country Club even 
tried to make him talk mosquitoes to them, while the sail-maker 
felt sure that his $5 had done the whole job. Hammocks were 
swung out in the yards — and a hammock hung outside of the 
screens is the barometer of the mosquito condition. 

The Mosquito Man was feeling very satisfied the night he went 
to a dance at the Country Club. But the east wind blew in the 
mosquitoes from the Norwalk marshes. 

"It was the most embarrassing experience I have ever had," 
said the Mosquito Man. "I sat right behind a big fat lady 
whose dress was very low and I watched the mosquitoes bite 
her; her whole back was covered with red lumps. That 
night I telegraphed to the man who had done the draining 
and he telegraphed back that all of Norwalk township must 
be drained." 

Norwalk proved to be a much severer task than Darien. In 
Darien the Mosquito Man had found only indifference and preju- 
dice; in Norwalk he met active opposition. Property owners 
and city councils seem to be afraid that the value of property 
will be brought down if any sanitation scandal is advertised. 
It really appeared to be simpler and better business to ignore 
the fact. 

To do away with this opposition, the Mosquito Man handled 
his campaign in a popular manner. The cooperation of the news- 
papers was gained and every day he published articles on the mos- 
quito question; some of the articles were educational and others 
were facetious — while one came out that brought the property 
owners crying "murder" about his ears. This was the article in 
which he gave the statistics of Norwalk's health rate in compari- 



246 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

son with other Connecticut towns. The smallest subscriptions 
were encouraged, for, after a man has given a dollar to a cause, 
that cause is his. Many a child was received with a welcom- 
ing smile when he brought to the campaign offices a ten-cent 
donation. 

True, ten-cent donations were not suggested to adult con- 
tributors, and the Mosquito Man did much to induce the 
well-to-do citizens to subscribe according to their means. He 
still tells with relish of the club of women which took up a collec- 
tion, after his talk, and presented him with two dollars, in small 
change. 

*'The women, though, were my greatest help," he adds; "I 
found that the women are as a rule better citizens than the men 
and are glad to be organized to fight the mosquito and ^y menace. 
Of course, I found some uneducated ones that owned a piece 
of property a foot square, and were afraid that I would walk off 
with it in my pocket if I came to look it over — but, as for the 
educated women, I could not have managed my campaign with- 
out them." 

A large contributor to the fund was the monastery at Kaiser 
Island. For years this had been a summer resort for the monks, 
who filled the dormitories in the old days before the mosquitoes 
took the island. Only one priest was there when the Mosquito 
Man visited the place to ask for a subscription. 

" Very few come any more," said the priest. " It is because of 
the mosquitoes." 

"Will you contribute $500 to get rid of them.? " asked the Mos- 
quito Man. 

Briefly, the Mosquito Man offered to repay the $500 himself if 
he did not exterminate the mosquitoes. The mosquitoes went; 
the monks came back to Kaiser Island. 

Yet, in spite of the occasional generous giver, the $7,500 was 
never quite raised, and the Mosquito Man himself had to make 
up the deficit. The citizens of Norwalk, for instance, contrib- 
uted only $150. 

This all happened three years ago, and now not a child in the 
twelve miles but can tell you all about mosquitoes and how a 
community can avoid having them. The Mosquito Man is ap- 
preciated now, and the community understands what he has done 
for them and what he is still doing — for the contract merely 
drained the salt marshes, doing away with the salt-water mos- 
quitoes. There were still the fresh-water mosquitoes, and there 



SINGULAR STORY OF THE MOSQUITO MAN 247 

was still much work for some one to do. That some one has been 
the Mosquito Man. 

During the three years, he has made it his business to drain 
every inland marsh within his territory, to turn over every tub 
which may collect water, to let the plug out of every old boat 
which is breeding mosquitoes, and to convince every ancestor- 
encumbered autocrat that his inherited woods can breed mos- 
quitoes just as disastrously as do the tin cans of the Hungarian 
immigrant down the road. The Mosquito Man has an assistant, 
paid by the towns of Darien and Norwalk — and together they 
traverse the country. 

*'It was difficult finding a man who would go into mud to the 
waist when need was," said the Mosquito Man, "but I finally 
found a good man with the proper scorn of public opinion on the 
clothes question, and with a properly trained wife who cleaned 
without scolding." 

You can find traces of the two men any place you go in the 
woods of Darien or Norwalk. In a ferned dell where you are 
quite sure that yours is the first human presence, you come upon 
a ditch, as clean and smooth as a knife — or you find new grass in 
a place which you remember as a swamp. Perhaps you may 
even be lucky enough to come on the two workers themselves, 
digging with their pick and spade — for all summer long the Mos- 
quito Man is working eight hours a day at his self-appointed 
task. 

You might even find him in New York some off-day — 
and you will know him, for surely he will be telling some rebel- 
lious apartment-house owner that the tank on his roof is un- 
screened. For they do say that he carries his activities into any 
part of the world where he may chance to be; they do say that, 
when he was in Italy not so very long ago, he went out to investi- 
gate the mosquitoes which had disturbed his rest the night 
before. 

"Now you must oil your swamp," said he to the innkeeper. 

That night there was no salad for dinner, for the innkeeper had 
obeyed the order to the best of his ability. He had poured all of 
his best olive oil on the mosquito marsh. 



248 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 



(Country Gentleman) 

Five half-tone illustrations, with the following captions: 

1. " A Traction Ditcher at Work Digging Trench for Tile." 

2. " Ditch Dug With Dynamite Through Woods." 

3. " Apple Packing House and Cold Storage at Ransomville." 

4. " Nelson R. Peet, County Agent and Manager of the Niag- 
ara County Farm Bureau, New York." 

5. " Part of the Crowd Listening to the Speakers." 

A COUNTY SERVICE STATION 

Where New York Farmers Get Help in Their Fruit 
Growing and Marketing Problems 

By D. H. WILLIAMS 

You've got to look into the family closet of a county and study 
its skeletons before you can decide whether that county's farming 
business is mostly on paper or on concrete. You've got to know 
whether it standardizes production and marketing, or just mar- 
kets by as many methods as there are producers. 

As a living example of the possibility of tightening up and re- 
timing the gears of a county's economic machinery to the end of 
cutting out power losses, Niagara County, New York, stands in a 
distinct class by itself. 

Here is an area of 558 square miles, with Lake Ontario spray- 
ing its northern line. A network of electric and steam railways 
and hundreds of miles of splendid state highways make up a sys- 
tem of economic arteries through which the industrial life-blood 
of the county circulates. 

Forty-eight hours to Chicago's markets, the same distance to 
New York's; three wealthy industrial and agricultural cities 
within the county itself — Lockport, Niagara Falls and North 
Tonawanda — operating with a wealth of cheap electric power 
generated at Niagara Falls — these are some of the advantages 
within and without the county, the value of which is self-evident. 

Beginning with the southern plain section, Niagara's agricul- 
ture changes in type from general hay and grain farming to a 
more intense fruit-growing industry as the northern plain section 
is approached, until within the zone of Lake Ontario's tempering 
influence the fruit industry almost excludes all other types of 
farming. 

There is hardly a more favored fruit section in the country 



A COUNTY SERVICE STATION 249 

than the northern half of Niagara County. Apples, pears, 
peaches, plums, grapes, cherries, quinces make up the county's 
horticultural catalogue. The latest available figures rank Niag- 
ara County first among the counties of New York in the number 
of fruit trees ; second in the total number of bushels of fruit pro- 
duced; first in the quantity of peaches, pears, plums and prunes, 
quinces and cherries ; third in the number of bushels of apples. 

Yet there are things about the county which no statistics will 
ever show, such things, for instance, as the condition of the or- 
chards, the market value of the fruit, the earning capacity of the 
land as a whole — in other words, the bedrock rating of the 
county. You have to get at these things by a different avenue 
of approach. 

A rather close auditing during 1914 of the accounts of some 
eighty-seven typical good farms in perhaps the best section of 
Niagara County brought out the fact that labor incomes from 
these farms, on the whole, could not be classed as strictly gilt- 
edge. One diagnosis made by a Niagara County investigator is 
recorded in these words: 

"Though Niagara County has many of the best fruit farms in 
New York State, there are numbers of orchards that have been 
abandoned to the ravages of insects and disease. There is also a 
tendency toward extensive rather than intensive fruit growing, 
which has resulted in many large plantings being made. 

" Niagara County does not need more orchards, but rather cul- 
tivation and spraying of the present orchards; it does not need to 
produce more fruit, but rather to insure better grading and mar- 
keting of the present production." 

This observation is dated 1914, one year after leading farmers 
and business men of the county, convinced that all was not so 
well with them as the lifeless census figures would have one be- 
Heve, made the move to set up and operate for the county a farm 
bureau. New York is the national hotbed of farm-bureau en- 
thusiasm and propaganda. 

Almost six years to the day after the inauguration of this bu- 
reau, I went into Niagara County. And before I left I was able 
to sketch a rather vivid mental picture of what a farm bureau 
really can do for a county, be the raw material with which it must 
work good, bad or indifferent. 

Up in the office of the Niagara County Farm Bureau at Lock- 
port I waited some two hours for an interview with its manager, 
Nelson R. Peet. That wait was an eye-opener. 



250 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Three women clerks and stenographers and the assistant mana- 
ger occupied this room. The clerks were trying to typewrite, an- 
swer the continuous ringing of the phone, respond to buzzer sum- 
mons from Manager Feet's private office and talk with a stream 
of visitors, all at the same time. 

I spent two whole days and half a night in these offices and not 
once save at night was there a let-up in this sort of thing. It was 
business all the time; the business of service! Niagara County 
farmers are using the bureau. 

Nelson Peet, manager, is a spectacled human magneto. His 
speech and his movements fairly crackle with energy; his enthusi- 
asm is as communicable as a jump spark. A young man in years, 
yet mature in the knowledge of men and the psychology of serv- 
ice, he never wastes a minute dilating upon the philosophy of 
farm management; but he has worked twenty hours a day to see 
that Niagara County farmers got all the labor they needed dur- 
ing rush seasons. 

This man has been with the bureau three years. When he 
came to it the bureau had a paid-up membership of 325. In 
March this year, when I was in Niagara County, the membership 
stood at 2185, and was increasing daily. It led by a good margin, 
I was told, the fifty-five New York county farm bureaus. These, 
in 1918, had a total membership of 60,000. More than half the 
farmers in Niagara County are members of the Niagara Bureau. 

When Peet first took charge there were two broad courses open 
to him. He might have planned a program of paternahstic 
propaganda in behalf of the farmers of the county. Such a pro- 
gram calls for a tremendous amount of talking and writing about 
cooperation and community interests, better economics and bet- 
ter social conditions, but too often results in the propagandist 
doing the "coing," while the "operating" is left to somebody 
else. 

The other course was to find out what the farms and farmers in 
the county needed most and then set to work with little ado to 
get those things. Peet chose the latter course. And in so doing 
he has staged one of the best demonstrations in rural America. 
He has shown that a farm bureau can be made into a county serv- 
ice station and actually become the hub of the county's agricul- 
tural acti^aties. 

With the aid of state-college men, one of Peet's foremost 
lines of bureau work has been that of taking inventories of the 
farming business of Niagara County. For four years these rec- 



A COUNTY SERVICE STATION 251 

ords have been taken on some 100 tjrpical farms. Group meet- 
ings are regularly held at the homes of the bureau's community 
committeemen. Here, with the records they have been keeping, 
the farmers assemble. Here they work out their own labor in- 
comes and compare notes with their neighbors. The farm bureau 
helps the men make these business analyses — it does not do the 
work for them. Now the farmers ask for the blank forms and are 
themselves as enthusiastic over farm-management records as the 
men who specialize in such. 

These figures serve the bureau as an index to the county's 
progress. More than once Peet has referred to them and discov- 
ered where leaks could be plugged. For example, these records 
showed an average labor income of $182 a farm for the four years 
ending 1916. 

"This fact," Mr. Peet explained, "we put to work as the reason 
for doing something to benefit the fruit industry. What could be 
done? The answer in other highly specialized fruit sections 
seems to have been central packing houses. We held a meeting, 
inviting one very influential fruit grower from each loading sta- 
tion in the county. We showed charts of the farm-management 
records. It did n't take long for the meeting to go on record as 
favoring the central-packing-house plan. 

"Later meetings were held in each community, the farm-man- 
agement charts were again shown, and at every loading station 
the meetings went on record as favoring central packing houses. 
To make a long story short, sites and methods of financing these 
houses were worked out. There were already two old central 
packing houses in operation. They took on new life. Five new 
ones have been formed. All were incorporated and federated 
into a central parent association, which owns the brand adopted 
and makes the rules and regulations under which the fruit is 
packed. 

" From the very beginning the proposition has been pushed not 
as a means of beating the selling game by selling cooperatively, 
but as a means of securing the confidence of the consuming pub- 
hc, which must ultimately result in a wider distribution and bet- 
ter prices. In fact, the matter of selling has not been fostered 
from the farm-bureau office. We have concerned ourselves solely 
with uniform grading and central packing. We believed from 
the start that the selling of properly graded and packed fruit wiR 
take care of itself, and this stand has been justified. 

"Each association makes its own arrangements for selling, and 



252 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

in every case has secured better prices than the growers who sold 
under the old system. The most satisfactory feature of this work 
centers round the fact that the best and most influential growers 
are heart and soul behind the proposition. The personnel of co- 
operative movements, I believe, is the main feature." 

When I visited Niagara County the seven central packing as- 
sociations were doing a splendid business, handling about SI, 000,- 
000 worth of apples between them. Only two of the associations 
were more than one year old. Many of the associations were 
dickering for additional space for packing and for extensions for 
their refrigerator service. Other communities in Niagara and in 
other counties were writing in for details of the plan, to the end 
of getting the same thing started in their sections. And inquiries 
were coming in from states outside of New York. 

Even with the best of selling methods, no commodity will bring 
a profit to the producer unless the greater portion of it is ehgible 
to the A-1 class. Too many seconds or culls will throw any or- 
chard venture on the rocks of bankruptcy. It came to Manager 
Peet's attention early in 1917 that the farm bureau had a golden 
opportunity to put on another service, which alone, if it worked 
out in practice as well as it did on paper, would justify the exist- 
ence of the bureau. 

He noticed that though orchardists were following sprajang 
schedules — the best they could find — some had splendid results 
in controlling apple scab and other pests, but others got results 
ranging between indifferent and poor. This seemed paradoxical, 
in view of the fact that one man who followed the same spraying 
schedule as his neighbor would have more scabby apples than the 
other. 

At that time L. F. Strickland, orchard inspector for the state 
department of agriculture, had paid particular attention to a 
limited number of apple orchards in Niagara County with a 
view to controlling scab by spraying. He discovered that, 
though the average spraying calendar is all right, climatic condi- 
tions in different parts of the same county often upset these 
standard calculations, so that a difference of one day or even a 
few hours in time of spraying often meant the difference between 
success and failure. In other words, it was necessary to study all 
contributing factors, watch the orchards unremittingly and then 
decide on the exact day or even hour when conditions were right 
for a successful spray treatment. He found that one must strike 
the times between times to get the optimum of results. 



A COUNTY SERVICE STATION 253 

So Mr. Strickland, in conjunction with his regular work, kept 
an eagle eye on a few orchards and would notify the owners when 
it seemed the moment for spraying had come. It worked out 
that those favored orchardists had magnificent yields of A-1 
fruit; others in the same sections, following the rather flexible 
spraying calendars, did n't do nearly so well. 

All this set Manager Peet to thinking. " Strickland has n't got 
an automobile and has lots of other work to do," he reasoned; 
"but why, if he had a car and could give all the time necessary to 
such work, could n't the same results be had in orchards all over 
the county? Why can't this farm bureau put on a spraying 
service.^" 

He put the idea up to the executive committee of the bureau. 
The idea was good, they agreed, but it would cost at least $500 to 
try it out the first year. The bureau did n't have the available 
funds. 

"Tell you what," they finally said: "If you want to get out 
and rustle up 500 new members at one dollar each to pay for this 
thing, we'll authorize it." 

Peet was teUing me about it. "Here the bureau had been 
working for four years with a paid-up membership of about 375," 
he said, "and if I beheved in my idea I had to get 500 more by 
spring. It was February eighth when the committee gave me 
this decision. Well, I did it in time to start the ball that 
spring!" 

He got the new members because he had a service to sell them. 
Arrangements were made whereby the county was divided into 
six zones, varying in soil and topographic conditions. Criterion 
orchards were selected in each zone. The inspector, with the aid 
of daily telegraphic weather reports and through constant inspec- 
tion of the criterion orchards, decided when the hour struck for 
the most effective spraying of these orchards. 

In the meantime Manager Peet and the inspector had worked 
out a code system for spraying instructions and put this into the 
hands of the growers in the six zones. When it came time to 
spray, the telephones from headquarters in Lockport were put to 
work and the code message sent to certain orchardists; these in 
turn repeated the instructions to a number of other orchardists 
agreed upon, until every member had received the message. 

The scheme has worked. The first year there were 800 mem- 
bers who took this service; the second year — 1918 — there were 
900; this year there are 1500. It is paying for itself many times 



254 SPECIAL FILATURE ARTICLES 

over. One central packing house with nine grower members re- 
ports that eight of the members used the spraying service and 
that none of these had more than five per cent of their fruit to cull 
out. The ninth member sprayed, but not through the service. 
He culled forty-five per cent of his crop. There are scores of 
similar instances. 

Seeing how quickly he could get the support of the Niagara 
farmers for any move which had practice and not theory to rec- 
ommend it, Manager Peet next began to agitate for an improve- 
ment in city-marketing conditions in Lockport. Up to August, 
1915, the system — if system it might be called — of distributing 
farm produce for Lockport's consumption consisted of sporadic 
visits by producers to the city with produce to be sold at prices 
largely controlled by the local grocerymen. Likewise retail 
prices to consumers were chiefly regulated by the same standard. 

A grower might drive into Lockport with 100 quarts of straw- 
berries. He would stop at a grocery and offer them. 

"No," the grocer would say, "I don't want any. Say, how 
much do you want for them anyhow?" 

"Ten cents a quart." 

"Too high; I'll give you six." 

Whereupon the man would drive on to see the next grocer. 
But the man who offered six cents might go straight to his phone, 
call up the rest of the trade and mform it that there were 100 
quarts of strawberries on the streets for which he had offered six 
cents against ten asked. The result would be that the farmer 
would get no better offer than six cents. 

So Manager Peet joined hands with the Lockport Board of 
Commerce and went at the job of righting this condition. He 
proposed a city market for farmers. The nearest approach to a 
market was a shelter for teams which the local food dealers had 
rented. 

To 700 farmers in the vicinity of Lockport Manager Peet wrote 
letters, calling their attention to these conditions and offering the 
city-market idea as a remedy. And he used publicity among 
Lockport's population of consumers, showing them the economy 
of such a move. The farmers held a get-together meeting, 
decided on a location for a market in Lockport, decided on 
market days and market hours. After this the farm bureau got 
the city's common council to pass an ordinance prohibiting the 
huckstering of farm produce on the streets during market 
hours; also an ordmance setting the market hours, marking 



A COUNTY SERVICE STATION ^55 

off a street section which should be used as a market stand, and 
putting the superintendent of streets in charge. 

That was all. Not a cent of appropriation asked for. The 
market opened August 10, 1917, with fifty farm wagons in place. 
Before the summer was over it was common to find more than 
100 at their stands. The local war-garden supervisor acted as 
inspector. He looked over the produce, advised the farmers how 
to pack and display it, and used every energy in the direction of 
popularizing the market among producers and consumers alike. 

Between Manager Peet and the inspector a scheme was worked 
out whereby every Thursday was bargain day in market. They 
would get a certain number of farmers to agree to pack and offer 
for sale on those days a limited number of baskets of their finest 
tomatoes, say. Or it might be corn. In the case of tomatoes the 
bargain price would be ten cents for baskets which that day were 
selling regularly for eighteen to twenty-five cents. To each of 
these baskets — no farmer was asked to sacrifice more than ten 
— was attached a green tag noting that it was a bargain. 

Each bargain day was advertised in advance among Lockport 
consumers. Thursday mornings would see an early rush to the 
market. The bargains would be cleaned out and then business 
at normal prices would continue at a brisker rate than usual. 

The first year of its operation this market was held on fifty-one 
days. During this period 1300 rigs sold out their produce for a 
total of $13,000. This simple move has resulted in stabilizing 
prices in Lockport and has encouraged the bringing in of farm 
produce. Prices automatically regulate themselves. If they 
begin'to get too low in Lockport, the supply in sight is immedi- 
ately reduced through action by the producers in shipping the 
stuff to Niagara Falls or Buffalo by motor trucks. 

The distribution of Lockport's milk supply, as happens in hun- 
dreds of cities, has been attended by considerable waste and ex- 
pense as a result of duplication of delivery routes, breakage of 
bottles and uneconomic schedules. 

The first night I was in Lockport, Manager Peet was holding a 
meeting of the milk producers supplying the city for the purpose 
of settling this inequity once and for all. A little agitation had 
been carried on ahead of this meeting, but only a little. Peet had 
a plan. 

''It's all wrong to plan for a municipally owned central dis- 
tributing system," he was explaining to me the next morning; 
"these are too likely to get mixed up in politics. So last night 



Q56 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

we just about clinched our arrangement for having our city dis- 
tributing system owned by the producers themselves. In the 
past we have had eight distributors with fifteen wagons handling 
the milk supplied from fifty dairy farms. There has been a big 
loss in time and money as a result of this competition. 

"The farm bureau got the producers together on the plan of 
securing options on these distributors' interests, and last night 
we just about wound up all the preliminaries. We already have 
our limited liability corporation papers. We're incorporating 
under the Membership Corporation Law. Our organization 
comes under the amendment to the Sherman Antitrust Law, you 
know, following closely the California law under which the Cali- 
fornia fruit growers' associations operate. 

''We figure that we will need between $20,000 and $30,000 for 
the purchase of buildings, wagons, equipment and good-will now 
in the hands of the distributors. At first we thought it would fee 
a good plan to have every member of the association subscribe to 
the amount proportioned by the number of cows he keeps or the 
amount of milk he has for sale. But for several reasons this 
would n't work. So we hit on the scheme of having each man 
subscribe to the amount he personally is able to finance. 

"We already have $24,000 subscribed in sums between set lim- 
its of $100 and $1000. We're issuing five-year certificates of in- 
debtedness bearing six per cent interest. Our producers will 
have about $9000 worth of milk a month to distribute. We plan 
to deduct five per cent every month from these milk checks to 
pay off the certificates. Then later we '11 create a new set of cer- 
tificates and redistribute these in proportion to the amounts of 
milk produced on the members' farms." 

Manager Peet and the producers are making it perfectly plain 
to Lockport consumers that this is no move contemplating price 
control. In fact, they expect to sell milk for a cent a quart under 
the old price. 

The farm-labor shortage which antedated our entrance into 
the war became a national menace about the time our selective 
draft began to operate. New York farmers were as hard hit as 
any other farmers, particularly in the fruit sections, where a tre- 
mendous labor supply falls suddenly due at harvest time. Ni- 
agara County came in for its full share of this trouble and the 
Niagara County Farm Bureau went its length to meet the emer- 
gency. 

In 1917 Western New York produced the biggest crop of 



A COUNTY SERVICE STATION 257 

peaches in its history, and in the face of the greatest labor famine. 
There were nearly 8000 cars of the fruit in danger of spoiling on 
the trees and on the ground. Peet anticipated the crisis by con- 
verting the farm bureau into a veritable county labor depart- 
ment. He was promised a good number of high-school boys who 
were to help in the peach harvest and who were to be cleared 
through a central office in Buffalo. 

Manager Peet worked out arrangements for the care of these 
boys in forty-two camps strategically located. The camps were 
to accommodate thirty boys each. The farmers had asked Peet 
for 4500 hands. He apphed for 1500 boys and had every reason 
to expect these. But at the critical moment something went 
wrong in Buffalo headquarters and of the 1500 asked for he got 
only 200! 

"I was in Buffalo at the time the news was broken," Manager 
Peet was saying to me, "and my first impulse was to jump off one 
of the docks!" 

Here was a nice kettle of fish! The fruit was ripening on the 
trees, and the phones in the bureau offices were ringing their 
plating off with calls from frantic farmers. Peet did n't jump off 
a Buffalo dock; he jumped out of his coat and into the fray. He 
got a Federal Department of Labor man to help him. They 
plastered appeals for help all over Western New York — on the 
walls of post offices, railroad stations, on boarding houses. They 
worked on long-distance phones, the telegraph, the mails. They 
hired trucks and brought city men and boys and women and 
girls from cities to work in the orchards over week-ends. Labor, 
attracted by the flaring posters, drifted into the bureau's offices 
in Lockport and immediately was assigned to farms; and hun- 
dreds of laborers whom Peet never saw also came. 

By working seven days a week and often without meals and 
with cat naps for sleep the bureau cleared 1200 laborers through 
its office, to say nothing of the loads brought overland by motor 
truck and which never came near the office. Business houses in 
the towns closed down and sent their help to the orchards. Lock- 
port's organization of ''live wires" — lawyers, doctors, bankers 
— went out and worked in the orchards. 

" Well," was Peet's comm.ent, "we saved the crop, that's all!" 

Last year the bureau placed 1095 men and four women on 
farms in Niagara County. In addition, 1527 soldiers were se- 
cured on two-day furloughs from Fort Niagara to help harvest 
the fruit crops. " We did this," said Manager Peet, "mainly by 



258 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

starting early and keeping persistently at it with the War De- 
partment, in order to cut the red tape." 

This fall there will go into effect in New York State an amend- 
ment to its drainage law which is going to do more properly to 
drain the state than all the steam diggers that could have been 
crowded on its acres under former conditions. This action came 
out of Niagara County, through the farm bureau. 

To reahze the importance of drainage in this county one must 
remember that it lies in two levels broken by the ridge which 
forms the locks at Lockport, the falls at Niagara Falls, and which 
extends across the county from east to west. In each plateau 
the land is very level, there being but few places in the county 
having a difference in elevation of twenty feet within a radius of a 
mile. Good drainage is very necessary and in the past has been 
very hard to secure. 

"Practically no man can secure adequate drainage without be- 
ing concerned in the drainage of his neighbor's land," said Mr. 
Peet. "If the neighbor objects the situation is complicated. 
And our drainage laws have been woefully inadequate to handle 
these problems." 

But recently the farm bureau put it up to a conference of 
county agents of New York to get the "state leader" to appoint 
a state committee to work this thing out and persuade the state 
legislature to make the necessary amendments to the drainage 
law. The plan went through, and one of the laws passed com- 
pels an objecting property owner to open drains which are neces- 
sary for the relief of his neighbors. This law goes into effect next 
faU. 

Farmers are looking to the farm bureau for help in the cleaning 
and repairing of some sixty drainage ditches constructed in the 
past under the county-commissioner plan. But the records on 
file in the county clerk's office are in bad shape. The farm bureau 
has taken it upon itself to arrange all this material so that it is 
available on a minute's notice, and as a result has drawn up peti- 
tions to the supervisors for the cleaning out of three of these 
ditches. 

Cooperating with the New York State Food Commission, the 
farm bureau had a power-tractor ditcher placed in the county 
last summer. Peet placed his assistant in full charge, and the 
machine never lost a single day as a result of lack of supervision. 
It has dug over 4000 rods of ditch for tile on twenty-eight farms. 

For four years Niagara County farmers had not made expenses 



A COUNTY SERVICE STATION 259 

in growing tomatoes for the canneries. The farm bureau called a 
meeting of some fourteen growers and together they figured the 
cost of production. The average cost for 1917 was found to be 
$85 an acre; the estimated cost for 1918 was $108 an acre. The 
average crop was set at six tons to the acre. A joint committee 
went out of the conference and laid these facts before the canners. 
The result was that the growers got $20 a ton for their crops in 
1918. 

These are some outstanding features of the service rendered its 
farmers by the Niagara bureau. Here are some of its ''lesser" 
activities: 

Taking an agricultural census by school districts of each farm 
in the county and completing the job in one week. 

Effecting an interchange of livestock and seed. 

Distributing 1000 bushels of seed corn among 383 farmers, 
twenty-two tons of nitrate of soda at cost among sixty-two farm- 
ers, and securing and distributing six tons of sugar to fifty bee- 
keepers for wintering bees. 

Indorsing 200 applications for military furloughs. 

Assisting in organizing Liberty Loan campaigns, especially 
the third. 

Assisting in the dehvery of twenty carloads of feed, fertilizer, 
farm machinery and barrels, which had been delayed. 

Holding twelve demonstration meetings, attended by 602 
farmers. 

Conducting two tractor schools, attended by 125 farmers. 

Arranging eight farmers' institutes, attended by 900 farmers. 

Organizing a Federal Farm Loan Association which has loaned 
$125,000 to nineteen farmers. 

The bureau keeps its members posted on what is going on in 
the county and what the bureau is doing through the medium of 
a well-edited monthly " News" of eight pages. The best feature 
of the handling of this publication is that it costs neither bureau 
nor members a cent. The advertisements from local supply 
dealers pay for it, and two pages of ads in each issue settles the 
bill. 

The bureau's books show that last year it spent five dollars 
in serving each member. The membership fee is only one dol- 
lar. The difference comes from Federal, state and county 
appropriations. 

The success of this bureau comes from having at the head of it 
the right man with the right view of what a farm bureau should 



260 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

do. Manager Peet sees to it that the organization works with 
the local chamber of commerce — the one in Lockport has 700 
members — which antedates the farm bureau and which always 
has supported the bureau. Peet's policy has been to keep the 
bureau not only before the farmers but before the city people as 
well. 

The "live-wire" committee of the Lockport chamber, com- 
posed of lawyers, doctors, bankers, merchants, and the like, has 
made Manager Peet an ex-officio member. The Niagara Falls 
and Tonawanda Chambers of Commerce get together with the 
Lockport chamber and the farm bureau and talk over problems 
of inter-county importance. These conferences have worked out 
a unified plan for road development, for instance. The Niagara 
Farm Bureau helped the Niagara Falls city administration to se- 
cure the services of a Federal market inspector. In this way all 
rivalry between different sections and towns in Niagara County 
is freed of friction. 

About the only criticism I heard against the farm bureau of 
Niagara County was that Peet was the wrong man. The farmers 
want a man who will stay manager. But some of the best mem- 
bers hinted that Peet will not stay because he's just a bit too effi- 
cient. They seem to fear that some business corporation is going 
to get him away. And when you look over the record of his work 
as organizer and executive, you must admit there's something in 
this. 

(Detroit News) 

Four half-tone illustrations: 

1. The Settling Basin at the Water Works. 

2. Interior of the Tunnel Through which the Water is Pumped. 

3. Where Detroit's Water Comes From. 

4. Water Rushing into the Settling Basin. 

GUARDING A CITY'S WATER SUPPLY 

How the City Chemist Watches for the Appearance 

of Deadly Bacilli ; Water Made Pure by 

Chemicals 

By henry J. RICHMOND 

"Colon." The city chemist spoke the one significant word as 
he set down the test tube into which he had been gazing intently. 



GUARDING A CITY'S WATER SUPPLY 261 

The next morning the front page of all the city papers displayed 
the warning, " Citizens should boil the drinking water." 

Every morning, as the first task of the day, the city chemist 
uncorks a curious little crooked tube containing a few spoonsful 
of very ordinary bouillon, akin to that which you might grab at 
the quick lunch, but which has been treated by the admixture of 
a chemical. This tube begins in a bulb which holds the fluid and 
terminates in an upturned crook sealed at the end. Into this in- 
teresting little piece of apparatus, the chemist pours a small 
quantity of the city drinldng water, and he then puts the whole 
into an incubator where it is kept at a temperature favorable to 
the reactions which are expected if the water is contaminated. 

After a sufficient time the tube is inspected. To the untrained 
eye nothing appears. The bouillon still remains in the little bulb 
apparently unchanged. Its color and clearness have not been 
affected. But the chemist notices that it does not stand so high 
in the closed end of the tube as it did when placed in the incuba- 
tor. The observation seems trivial, but to the man of science it 
is significant. 

What has happened.^ The water contained some minute 
organisms which when acted upon by the chemical in the tube 
have set up a fermentation. Gradually, one by one in the little 
bulb, bubbles of gas have formed and risen to the surface of the 
liquid in the closed upper end of the tube. As this gas was liber- 
ated, it took the place of the liquid in the tube, and the liquid was 
forced downward until there was quite a large space, apparently 
vacant but really filled with gas. 

It was this phenomenon that had attracted the attention of 
the chemist. What did it mean? It was the evidence that the 
water which was being furnished to the city for half a million peo- 
ple to drink contained some living organism. 

Now that, in itself, was enough to make an official of the health 
department begin to take an interest. It was not, however, in 
itself a danger signal. 

Not all bacterial life is a menace to health, the chemist will tell 
you. Indeed, humanity has come to live on very peaceable 
terms with several thousand varieties of bacteria and to be really 
at enmity with but a score or more. Without the beneficent 
work of a certain class of bacteria the world would not be habita- 
ble. This comes about through a very interesting, though rather 
repulsive condition — the necessity of getting rid of the dead to 
make room for the living. 



262 SPECL\L FEATURE ARTICLES 

What would be the result if no provision had been made for 
the disintegration of the bodies of all the men and animals that 
have inhabited the earth since the beginning? Such a situation 
is inconceivable. But very wisely providence has provided that 
myriads and myriads of tiny creatures are ever at work breaking 
up worn-out and dead animal matter and reducing it to its original 
elements. These elements are taken up by plant life, elaborated 
into living vegetable growth and made fit again for the nourish- 
ment of animal fife, thus completing the marvelous cycle. And 
so we must not get the notion that all bacteria are our mortal 
foes. We could not hve without them, and our earth, without 
their humble services, would no longer be habitable. 

Neither need we fear the presence of bacterial life in our drink- 
ing water. Drinking water always contains bacteria. We, 
ourselves, even when in the best of health, are the hosts of 
millions upon milhons of them, and it is fair to suppose that 
they serve some useful purpose. At any rate, it has never 
been demonstrated that they do us any harm under normal con- 
ditions. 

And so, the chemist was not alarmed when he discovered that 
the formation of gas in his crooked tube gave indication of bac- 
teria in the drinking water. He must ascertain what type of bac- 
teria he had entrapped. To this end, he analyzed the gas, and 
when he determined that the fermentation was due to the pres- 
ence of colon bacilli in the water, he sent out his warning. Not 
that the colon bacilli are a menace to health. The body of every 
human being in the world is infested with millions of them. But 
the presence of colon bacilli in drinking water is an indication of 
the presence of a really dangerous thing — sewage. 

Thus, when the city chemist turned from his test tube with the 
exclamation, "Colon!" he did not fear the thing that he saw, but 
the thing that he knew might accompany it. 

There has been much discussion of late of the possibility that 
the great lakes cities may suffer a water famine. The rapid in- 
crease of population along the borders of these great seas, it has 
been said, might render the water unfit for use. This fear is 
based upon the assumption that we shall always continue the 
present very foolish practice of dumping our sewage into the 
source of our water supply. The time may come when we shall 
know better how to protect the public health and at the same 
time husband the public resources. But even at that, the city 
chemist says that he hardly expects to see the time when the 



GUARDING A CITY'S WATER SUPPLY 263 

present intake for water near the head of Belle Isle will not be 
both safe and adequate. 

No doubt he makes this statement because he has confidence 
that the purification of water is both simple and safe. There are 
two principal methods. The first, and most expensive, is na- 
ture's own — the filter. The application of this method is com- 
paratively simple though it involves considerable expense. The 
trick was learned from the hillside spring which, welling up 
through strata of sand and gravel, comes out pure and clear and 
sparkling. To make spring water out of lake water, therefore, it 
is merely necessary to excavate a considerable area to the desired 
depth and lead into it the pipes connected with the wells from 
which water is to be pumped. Then the pit is filled with succes- 
sive layers of crushed stone graduated in fineness to the size of 
gravel and then covered with a deep layer of fine sand. This 
area is then flooded with the water to be filtered, which slowly 
percolates and comes out clear and pure. The best results in 
purification of contaminated water supplies have probably been 
attained in this way; that is, as measured by the improvement of 
health and the general reduction of the death rate from those dis- 
eases caused by the use of contaminated water. 

But when the alarm was given this spring by the city chemist 
there was no time to excavate and build an extensive filtering 
plant. The dreaded typhoid was already making its appear- 
ance and babies were dying. Something had to be done at 
once. 

If some afternoon you take a stroll through Gladwin park your 
attention may be attracted to a little white building at the lower 
end of the settling basin. It is merely a temporary structm-e yet 
it is serving a very important purpose. Approach the open door 
and your nostrils will be greeted by a pungent odor that may 
make you catch your breath. The workmen, too, you will notice, 
do not stay long within doors, but take refuge in a little shelter 
booth outside. Strewn about here and there are traces of a white, 
powdery substance which seems to have been tracked down from 
a platform erected on the roof. This is hj^Dochlorite of lime, the 
substance used for sterilizing the city drinking water. 

This is so powerful a disinfectant that it destroys all bacteria in 
water even in an extremely dilute solution. The method of ap- 
plying it is interesting. The city water comes in from the river 
through a great tunnel about 10 feet in diameter. The little 
chlorinating plant is situated on the line of this tunnel so that the 



264 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

solution is readily introduced into the water before it reaches the 
pool called a settling basin. 

The hjTDOchlorite reaches the plant in iron cylinders containing 
100 pounds. These are carried up to the roof and poured into 
the first mixing tank through a hopper fixed for the purpose. 
There are \\athin the building four of these mixing tanks. In the 
first, up near the roof, a very strong solution is first made. This 
is drawn off into a second tank with a greater admixture of water 
and thence passes into the third and fourth. From the last it is 
forced out into the main tunnel by a pipe and mingles with the 
great flood that is pouring constantly into the wells beneath 
pumping engines. And this is the strength of the chemical: five 
pounds of it mingled with one million gallons of water is sufficient 
to render the water fit for drinking purposes. Nearly 98 per cent 
of the bacteria in the water is destroyed by this weak solution. 
The water is tasteless and odorless. Indeed, probably very few 
of the citizens of Detroit who are using the city water all the 
time, know that the treatment is being applied. 

But the chemist continues his tests every morning. Every 
morning the little crooked tubes are brought out and filled and 
carefully watched to ascertain if the telltale gas develops which 
is an index of " death in the cup." Thus is the city's water supply 
guarded. 

No more important work can devolve on the board of health. 
Before science had learned to recognize the tiny enemies which 
infest drinking water, tj'phoid and kindred diseases were re- 
garded as a visitation of divine providence for the sins of a peo- 
ple. We now know that a rise in the death rate from these dis- 
eases is to be laid rather to the sins of omission on the part of the 
board of health and the public works department. 



(The Outlook) 

THE OCCUPATION AND EXERCISE CURE 

By FRANK MARSHALL WHITE 

The nerve specialist leaned back in his chair behind the great 
mahogany desk in his consulting-room and studied the features 
of the capitalist as that important factor in commerce and indus- 
try explained the symptoms that had become alarming enough 
to drive him, against his will, to seek medical assistance. The 



THE OCCUPATION AND EXERCISE CURE Q65 

patient was under fifty years of age, though the deep lines in his 
face, with his whitening hair — consequences of the assiduity 
with which he had devoted himself to the accumulation of his 
millions and his position in the Directory of Directors — made 
him appear ten years older. An examination had shown that he 
had no organic disease of any kind, but he told the physician 
that he was suffering from what he called "inward trembling," 
with palpitation of the heart, poor sleep, occasional dizziness, 
pain in the back of the neck, difficulty in concentrating his atten- 
tion, and, most of all, from various apprehensions, such as that 
of being about to fall, of losing his mind, of sudden death — he 
was afraid to be alone, and was continually tired, worried, and 
harassed. 

"You present merely the ordinary signs of neurasthenia," said 
the 'specialist. "These symptoms are distressing, but not at all 
serious or dangerous. You have been thinking a great deal too 
much about yourself and your feelings. You watch with morbid 
interest the perverted sensations that arise in various parts of 
your body. You grow apprehensive about the palpitation of 
your heart, which is not at all diseased, but which flutters a little 
from time to time because the great nerve of the heart is tired, 
like the other great nerves and nerve-centers of your body. You 
grow apprehensive over the analogous tremor which you describe 
as 'inward trembling,' and which you often feel all through your 
trunk and sometimes in your knees, hands, and face, particularly 
about the eyes and mouth and in the fingers." 

The capitalist had started at the mention of the word neuras- 
thenia, and had seemed much relieved when the physician had 
declared that the symptoms were not dangerous. "I had been 
under the impression that neurasthenia was practically an in- 
curable disease," he said. "However, you have described my 
sensations exactly." 

" One hundred per centum of cases of neurasthenia are cur- 
able," responded the specialist. "Neurasthenia is not, as is usu- 
ally supposed, an equally diffused general exhaustion of the nerv- 
ous system. In my opinion, it is rather an unequally distributed 
multiple fatigue. Certain more vulnerable portions of the nerv- 
ous system are affected, while the remainder is normal. In the 
brain we have an overworked area which, irritated, gives rise to 
an apprehension or imperative idea. By concentration of energy 
in some other region of the brain, by using the normal portions, 
we give this affected part an opportunity to rest and recuperate. 



266 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

New occupations are therefore substituted for the old habitual 
one. A change of interests gives the tired centers rest." 

"I have heard the 'rest cure' advocated in cases like mine," 
suggested the capitalist. 

"In the treatment of neurasthenia we must take the whole 
man into consideration," said the physician. "We must stimu- 
late nutrition, feed well the tired and exhausted organism, and, 
above all, provide some sort of rest and distraction for the mind. 
The mind needs feeding as well as the body. The rest cure is a 
kind of passive, relaxing, sedative treatment. The field is al- 
lowed to lie fallow, and often to grow up with weeds, trusting to 
time to rest and emich it. The 'exercise and occupation cure,' 
on the other hand, is an active, stimulating, and tonic prescrip- 
tion. You place yom-self in the hands of a physician who must 
direct the treatment. He will lay out a scheme ^dth a judicious 
admixture of exercise which will improve your general health, 
soothe your nerA- ous system, induce good appetite and sleep, and 
of occupation which will keep your mind from morbid self-con- 
templation. One of the best means to this end is manual occupa- 
tion — drawing, designing, carpentry, metal-work, leather-work, 
weaving, basket-making, bookbinding, clay-modeling, and the 
hke — for in all these things the hands are kept busy, requiring 
concentration of attention, while new interests of an artistic and 
sesthetic nature are aroused. The outdoor exercise, taken for a 
part of each day, if of the right sort, also distracts by taking the 
attention and creating interest." 

The capitalist had called upon the specialist braced for a possi- 
ble sentence of death, prepared at the least to be informed that he 
was suffering from a progressive mental malady. Now, while a 
tremendous weight was lifted from his mind with the information 
that he might anticipate a complete retmn to health, the idea of 
devoting his trained intelligence, accustomed to cope with gTcat 
problems of trade and finance, to such trivialities as basket- 
making or modeling in clay appeared preposterous. Neverthe- 
less, when the physician told him of a resort near at hand, estab- 
lished for the treatment of cases just such as his, where he might 
be under continuous medical supervision, T\ithout confinement 
indoors or being deprived of any of the comforts or luxuries of 
life, he decided to put himself in the other's hands unreservedly. 
The specialist inforaied him that the length of time required for 
his cure would depend largely upon himself. He might, for in- 
stance, even keep in touch with his office and have matters of im- 



THE OCCUPATION AND EXERCISE CURE 267 

port referred to him while he was recuperating his mental and 
physical strength, but such a course would inevitably retard his 
recovery, and possibly prevent it. To get the best results from 
the treatment he ought to leave every business interest behind 
him, he was told. 

The fee that the capitalist paid the specialist made his advice 
so valuable that the other followed it absolutely. The next eve- 
ning saw the patient in the home of the "occupation and exercise 
cure." He arrived just in time to sit down to dinner with a score 
of other patients, not one of whom showed any outward sign of 
illness, though all were taking the cure for some form of nervous 
trouble. There were no cases of insanity among them, however, 
none being admitted to the institution under any circumstances. 
The dinner was simple and abundant, and the conversation at 
the tables of a lively and cheerful nature. As everybody went to 
bed by ten o'clock — almost every one considerably before that 
hour, in fact — the newcomer did likewise, he having secured a 
suite with a bath in the main building. Somewhat to the sur- 
prise of the capitalist, who was accustomed to be made much of 
wherever he happened to be, no more attention was paid to him 
than to any other guest of the establishment, a condition of af- 
fairs that happened to please him. He was told on retiring that 
breakfast would be served in the dining-room from 7 : 30 to 8 : 30 in 
the morning, but that, if he preferred to remain in his room, it 
would be brought to him there at nine o'clock. 

The capitalist had a bad night, and was up to breakfast early. 
After he had concluded that repast the medical superintendent 
showed him about the place, but did not encourage him to talk 
about his symptoms. The grounds of the "occupation and exer- 
cise cure" comprised a farm of forty acres located among the hills 
of northern Westchester County in the Croton watershed, with 
large shade trees, lawns, flower gardens, and an inexhaustible 
supply of pure spring water from a well three hundred feet deep 
in solid rock. The main building, situated on a knoll adjacent to 
a grove of evergreen trees, contained a great solarium, which was 
the favorite sitting-room of the patients, and the dining-room 
was also finished with two sides of glass, both apartments capable 
of being thrown open in warm weather, and having the adva,ntage 
of all the sun there was in winter. In this building were also the 
medical offices, with a clinical laboratory and hydro- and electro- 
therapeutic equipment, and accommodations for from twelve to 
fifteen guests. Two bungalows under the trees of the apple or- 



268 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

chard close at hand, one containing two separate suites with baths, 
and the other two Uving-rooms with hall and bath-room, were 
ideal places for quiet and repose. Situated at the entrance to the 
grounds was a club-house, with a big sitting-room and an open 
fireplace; it also contained a solarium, billiard-room, bowling al- 
leys, a squash court, a greenhouse for winter floriculture, and the 
arts and crafts shops, with seven living-rooms. Every hving- 
room in the main building, the club-house, and the bungalows 
was connected with the medical office by telephone, so that in 
case of need patients might immediately secure the services of a 
physician at any hour of the day or night. 

The arts and crafts shops being the basic principle of the "oc- 
cupation and exercise cure," the capitalist was introduced to an 
efficient and businesslike young woman, the instructress, who 
explained to him the nature of the avocations in which he might 
choose to interest himself. Here he found his fellow-patients 
busily and apparently congenially employed. In one of the shops 
a recent alumnus of one of the leading universities, who had un- 
dergone a nervous breakdown after graduation, was patiently 
hammering a sheet of brass with a view to converting it into a 
lampshade; a matron of nearly sixty, who had previously spent 
eight years in sanatoriums, practically bedridden, was setting 
type in the printing office with greater activity than she had 
known before for two decades; two girls, one sixteen and the 
other twelve, the latter inclined to hysteria and the former once 
subject to acute nervous attacks, taking the cure in charge of 
trained nurses, were chattering gayly over a loom in the con- 
struction of a silk rug; a prominent business man from a Western 
city, like the New York capitalist broken down from overwork, 
was earnestly modeling in clay what he hoped might eventually 
become a jardiniere; one of last season's debutantes among the 
fashionables, who had been leading a life of too strenuous gayety 
that had told on her nerves, was constructing a stamped leather 
portfoho with entire absorption; and haK a dozen others, mostly 
young women, were engaged at wood-carving, bookbinding, 
block-printing, tapestry weaving, or basket-making, each one of 
them under treatment for some nervous derangement. 

The new patient decided to try his hand at basket-making; 
and, although he figured out that it would take him about four 
days to turn out a product that might sell for ten cents, he was 
soon so much interested in mastering the manual details of the 
craft that he was disinchned to put the work aside when the medi- 



THE OCCUPATION AND EXERCISE CURE 269 

cal superintendent suggested a horseback ride. When, at the 
advice of the speciahst, the capitalist had decided to try the occu- 
pation and exercise cure, he did so with Httle faith that it would 
restore him to health, though he felt that there was perhaps a 
slight chance that it might help him. The remedy seemed to him 
too simple to overcome a disease that was paralyzing his energies. 
To his great surprise, he began to improve at once; and though 
for the first week he got little sleep, and his dizziness, with the 
pain in the back of his neck and his apprehensions, continued to 
recur for weeks, they did so at always increasing intervals. 

He learned bookbinding, and sent to his library for some favor- 
ite volumes, and put them into new dress; he made elaborate 
waste-paper baskets, and beat brass into ornamental desk-trays, 
which he proudly presented to his friends in the city as specimens 
of his skill. Work with him, as with the others of the patients, 
was continually varied by recreation. In the summer months 
there were lawn-tennis, golf, croquet, canoeing, rowing, fishing, 
riding, and driving. In winter, such outdoor sports as skating, 
tobogganing, coasting, skeeing, snowshoeing, and lacrosse were 
varied by billiards, bowling, squash, the medicine ball, and basket 
and tether ball. The capitalist was astonished to discover that 
he could take an interest in games. The specialist, who called 
upon his patient at intervals, told him that a point of great im- 
portance in the cure was that exercise that is enjoyed is almost 
twice as effective in the good accomplished as exercise which is a 
mere mechanical routine of movements made as a matter of duty. 

The net result was that, after four months of the ''occupation 
and exercise cure," the capitalist returned to New York sound in 
mind and body, and feeling younger than he had before in years. 
Complete cures were effected in the cases of the other patients 
also, which is the less remarkable when the circumstance is taken 
into consideration that only patients capable of entire recovery 
are recommended to take the treatment. 

Of course the institution that has been described is only for the 
well-to-do, and physicians are endeavoring to bring the "occupa- 
tion and exercise cure" within the reach of the poor, and to inter- 
est philanthropists in the establishment of " colony sanatoriums," 
such as already exist in different parts of Europe, for those suffer- 
ing from functional nervous disorders who are without means. 
Contrary to the general opinion, neurasthenia, particularly 
among women, is not confined to the moneyed and leisure class; 
but, owing to the fact that women have taken up the work of men 



270 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

in offices and trades as well as in many of the professions, work- 
ing-women are continually breaking down under nervous strain, 
and many, under present conditions, have little chance for recov- 
ery, because they cannot afford the proper treatment. As a 
speaker at the last annual meeting of the American Medical Asso- 
ciation declared, "Idiots and epileptics and lunatics are many; 
but all together they are less numerous than the victims of nerv- 
ousness — the people afflicted with lesser grades of psychas- 
thenic and neurasthenic inadequacy, who become devoted epi- 
cures of their own emotions, and who claim a large share of the 
attention of every general practitioner and of every specialist." 

Scientists declare that this premature collapse of nerve force is 
increasing to such an extent as to become a positive menace to 
the general welfare. The struggle for existence among the condi- 
tions of modern life, especially among those found in the large 
centers of industrial and scientific activity, and the steady, per- 
sistent work, with its attendant sorrows, deprivations, and over- 
anxiety for success, are among the most prolific causes — causes 
which are the results of conditions from which, for the large mass 
of people, according to a leading New York alienist, there has 
been no possibility of escape. 

"Especially here in America are people forced into surround- 
ings for which they have never been fitted," the alienist asserts, 
"and especially here are premature demands made upon their 
nervous systems before they are mature and properly qualified. 
The lack of proper training deprives many of the workers, in all 
branches, of the best protection against functional nervous dis- 
eases which any person can have, namely, a well-trained nervous 
system. This struggle for existence by the congenital neuropath 
or the educationally unfit forces many to the use, and then to the 
abuse, of stimulants and excitants, and herein we have another 
important exciting cause. This early and excessive use of coffee, 
tea, alcohol, and tobacco is especially deleterious in its action 
upon the nervous system of those very ones who are most prone 
to go to excess in their use. 

"Therefore, predisposition, aided by the storm and stress of 
active competition and abetted by the use of stimulants, must be 
looked upon as the main cause for the premature collapse of nerve 
force which we call neurasthenia; so it will be found that the ma- 
jority of neurasthenics are between twenty-five and fifty years of 
age, and that their occupations are those which are attended by 
worry, undue excitement, uncertainty, excessive wear and tear, 



THE OCCUPATION AND EXERCISE CURE 271 

and thus we find mentally active persons more easily affected 
than those whose occupation is solely physical. Authors, actors, 
school-teachers, governesses, telegraph and telephone operators, 
are among those most frequently affected, and the increase of 
neurasthenia among women dates from the modern era which has 
opened to them new channels of work and has admitted them 
more generally into the so-called learned professions. But what- 
ever may be the occupation in which persons have broken down, 
it is never the occupation alone which has been the cause. 

''This cannot be too often repeated. The emotional fitness or 
unfitness of an individual for his occupation is of the utmost im- 
portance as a causative factor, and overwork alone, without any 
emotional cause and without any errors in mode of life, will never 
act to produce such a collapse. It is therefore not astonishing 
that this class of functional nervous diseases is not confined to the 
wealthy, and that the rich and the poor are indiscriminately af- 
fected. But certain causes are of greater influence in the one 
class, while different ones obtain in the other. Poverty in itself, 
with its limitations of proper rest and recuperation, is a very 
positive cause. Years of neurological dispensary work among 
the poor have convinced me that nervousness, neurasthenia, hy- 
steria, etc., are quite as prevalent among the indigent as among 
the well-to-do." 

Physicians agree that the prime requisite in the treatment of 
these disorders is the removal of the patient from his or her habit- 
ual surroundings, where recognition of the existence of actual dis- 
ease is generally wanting, where the constant admonitions of 
well-meaning friends to "brace up" and to "exert your will 
power" force the sick man or woman to bodily and mental over- 
exertion, and where the worries about a Hvelihood are always 
dominant. Such a change alone, however, the experts say, will 
help but few, for it is being recognized more and more that these 
functional diseases of the nervous system can receive satisfactory 
treatment only in institutions, where constant attention may be 
had, with expert supervision and trained attendants. 

The "occupation and exercise cure" is apphcable also to epi- 
lepsy, and is the therapeutic principle of the Craig Colony for 
Epileptics at Sonyea, in Livingston County, supported by the 
State, and that institution furnishes a general model for the "col- 
ony sanatoriums" suggested for indigent patients suffering from 
functional nervous disorders. The Craig Colony was the idea of 
Dr. Frederick Peterson, Professor of Psychiatry at Columbia 



272 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

University, and former President of the New York State Com- 
mission of Lunacy and of the New York Neurological Society, 
which he based upon the epileptic colony at Beilefeld, Germany, 
that was founded in 1867. The Oraig Colony was founded in 
1894, and there are now being cared for within its confines more 
than thirteen hundred patients, who have turned out this year 
agricultural products, with bricks, soap, and brooms, to the value 
of $60,000. The colony is named after the late Oscar Craig, of 
Rochester, who, with WiUiam P. Letchw^orth, of Buffalo, pur- 
chased the two-thousand-acre tract of land on which it is situated 
from the Shaker colony at Sonyea and presented it to the State, 
Dr. Peterson devoting several months of each year for nine years 
to getting the institution into working order. The first patients 
were housed in the old Shaker buildings, which were well con- 
structed and fairly well arranged for the purpose, but as addi- 
tional appUcations for admission have been made new buildings 
have been erected. To-day there are eighty buildings in the col- 
ony, but a thousand patients are waiting for admission, eight 
hundred of whom are in New York City. 

Epilepsy, the "falling sickness," is a most difficult malady to 
treat even in an institution for that purpose, and it is impossible 
to treat it anywhere else. An epileptic in a family is an almost 
intolerable burden to its other members, as well as to himself* 
The temperamental effect of the disease takes the form in the pa- 
tient of making frequent and unjust complaints, and epileptics 
invariably charge some one with having injured them while they 
have been unconscious during an attack. Then, too, hving at 
home, they are often dangerous to younger members of a family, 
and they are fault-finding, exacting, and irritable generally. 
The seizures frequently come on without warning, and the pa- 
tient drops where he stands, often injiu-ing himseK severely. The 
last annual report of the Craig Colony records more than four 
hundred injuries within the year to patients during seizm-es 
which required a surgeon's attention, the injuries varying from 
severe bruises to fractures of the skull. 

The object of the Craig Colonj^ is to remove the burden of the 
epileptic in the family from the home \\dthout subjecting the pa- 
tient to the hardship of confinement with the insane. ''Very few 
epileptics suffer permanent insanity in any form except demen- 
tia," says the medical superintendent of the Colony. "Acute 
mania and maniac depressive insanity not infrequently appear as 
a 'post-convulsive' condition, that generally subsides within a 



THE OCCUPATION AND EXERCISE CURE 273 

few hours, or at most a few days. Rarely the state may persist a 
month. Melancholia is extremely infrequent. Delusions of 
persecution, hallucinations of sight or hearing, systematized in 
character, are almost never encountered in epilepsy." 

Only from six to fifteen per cent of epileptics are curable, and 
hence the work of the Craig Colony is largely palliative of the 
sufferings of the patients. Each individual case is studied with 
the utmost care, however, and patients are given their choice of 
available occupations. The Colony is not a custodial institution. 
There are no bars on the windows, no walls or high fences about 
the farm. The patients are housed in cottages, men and women 
in separate buildings some distance apart, about thirty to each 
cottage. In charge of each of these families are a man and his 
wife, who utilize the services of some of the patients in the per- 
formance of household work, while the others have their duties 
outside. Kindness to the unfortunates under their care is im- 
pressed upon every employee of the Colony, and an iron-bound 
rule forbids them to strike a patient even in case of assault. 

Besides the agricultural work in the Craig Colony, and that in 
the soap and broom factories and the brick-yard, the patients are 
taught blacksmithing, carpentry, dressmaking, tailoring, paint- 
ing, plumbing, shoemaking, laundrying, and sloyd work. It is 
insisted on that aU patients physically capable shall find employ- 
ment as a therapeutic measure. The records show that on Sun- 
days and holidays and on rainy days, when there is a minimum of 
physical activity among the patients, their seizures double and 
sometimes treble in number. Few of the patients know how to 
perform any kind of labor when they enter the Colony, but many 
of them learn rapidly. It has been repeatedly demonstrated that 
boys from eighteen to twenty years of age can spend two years in 
the sloyd shop and leave it fully qualified as cabinet-makers, and 
capable of earning a journeyman's wages. 

There are about two hundred children in the colony of epilep- 
tics at Sonyea, more than half of whom are girls. As children 
subject to epileptic seizures are not received in the public schools 
of the State, the only opportunity for any education among these 
afflicted little ones whose parents are unable to teach them them- 
selves or provide private tutors for them is in the schools of the 
Colony. Some of the children are comparatively bright scholars, 
while the attempt to teach others seems a hopeless task. For in- 
stance, it took one girl ninety days to learn to lay three sticks in 
the form of a letter A. 



274 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Every effort is made to encourage recreation among the pa- 
tients in the Craig Colony, both children and adults. The men 
have a club of 250 members, with billiards, chess, checkers, cards, 
and magazines and newspapers. The boys have their baseball 
and football, and play match games among themselves or with 
visiting teams. The women and girls play croquet, tennis, and 
other outdoor games. There is a band composed of patients that 
gives a concert once a week, and there are theatricals and danc- 
ing, with occasional lectures by visiting celebrities. As the Col- 
ony, with the medical staff, nurses, and other employees, has a 
population of 2,000, there is always an audience for any visiting 
attraction. The maintenance of the Colony is costing the State 
$225,000 the present year. 

Since the founding of the Craig Colony similar institutions have 
been established in Massachusetts, Texas, Michigan, Ohio, New 
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Illinois, and Kansas, and other States are 
preparing to follow their example. There are other private sana- 
toriums throughout the country similar to the one in Westchester 
County, where the nervous or neurasthenic patient who is well- 
to-do may obtain relaxation and supervision, but there is no 
place at all to-day where the man or woman suffering from cura- 
ble nervous disorders who is without means can go for treatment. 



{McClure's Magazine) 



Five illustrations: two wash drawings by Andr^ Castaigne showing 
mono-rail trains in the future, five half-tone reproductions of photo- 
graphs of the car on its trial trip, and one pen-and-ink diagram of the 
gyroscopes. 

THE BRENNAN MONO-RAIL CAR 

By PERCEVAL GIBBON 

It was November 10, 1909 — a day that will surely have its 
place in history beside that other day, eighty-five years ago, 
when George Stephenson drove the first railway locomotive be- 
tween Stockton and Darlino;ton. In the great square of the Bren- 
nan torpedo factory at GiUingham, where the fighting-tops of 
battleships in the adjacent dockyard poise above the stone cop- 
ing of the wall, there was a track laid down in a circle of a quarter 
of a mile. Switches linked it up with other lengths of track, a 
straight stretch down to a muddy cape of the Medway estuary, 



THE BRENNAN MONO-RAIL CAR 275 

and a string of curves and loops coiling among the stone and iron 
factory sheds. The strange thing about it was that it was single 
— just one line of rail on sleepers tamped into the unstable 
"made" ground of the place. 

And there was Brennan, his face red with the chill wind sweep- 
ing in from the Nore, his voice plaintive and Irish, discoursing, at 
slow length, of revolutions per minute, of "precession," and the 
like. The journalists from London, who had come down at his 
invitation, fidgeted and shivered in the bitter morning air; the 
affair did not look in the least like an epoch in the history of trans- 
portation and civilization, till — 

"Now, gentlemen," said Brennan, and led the way across the 
circle of track. 

And then, from its home behind the low, powder-magazine-like 
sheds, there rode forth a strange car, the like of which was never 
seen before. It was painted the businesslike slatyblue gray of 
the War Department. It was merely a flat platform, ten feet 
wide by forty feet long, with a steel cab mounted on its forward 
end, through the windows of which one could see a young engi- 
neer in tweeds standing against a blur of moving machine-parts. 

It ran on the single rail; its four wheels revolved in a line, 
one behind another; and it traveled with the level, flexible equi- 
librium of a ship moving across a dock. It swung over the 
sharp curves without faltering, crossed the switch, and floated — 
floated is the only word for the serene and equable quality of its 
movement — round and round the quarter-mile circle. A work- 
man boarded it as it passed him, and sat on the edge with his legs 
swinging, and its level was unaltered. It was wonderful beyond 
words to see. It seemed to abolish the very principle of gravita- 
tion; it contradicted calmly one's most familiar instincts. 

Every one knows the sense one gains at times while watching 
an ingenious machine at its work — a sense of being in the pres- 
ence of a Uving and conscious thing, with more than the industry, 
the pertinacity, the dexterity, of a man. There was a moment, 
while watching Brennan's car, when one had to summon an effort 
of reason to do away with this sense of life; it answered each move- 
ment of the men on board and each inequality in the makeshift 
track with an adjustment of balance irresistibly suggestive of 
consciousness. It was an illustration of that troublous theorem 
which advances that consciousness is no more than the co-rela- 
tion of the parts of the brain, and that a machine adapted to its 
work is as conscious in its own sphere as a mind is in its sphere. 



276 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

The car backed round the track, crossed to the straight line, 
and halted to take us aboard. There were about forty of us, yet 
it took up our unequally distributed weight without disturbance. 
The young engineer threw over his lever, and we ran down the 
line. The movement was as "sweet" and equable as the move- 
ment of a powerful automobile running slowly on a smooth road; 
there was an utter absence of those jars and small lateral shocks 
that are inseparable from a car running on a double track. We 
passed beyond the sheds and slid along a narrow spit of land 
thrusting out into the mud-flanked estuary. Men on lighters 
and a working-party of bluejackets turned to stare at the incred- 
ible machine with its load. Then back again, three times round 
the circle, and in and out among the curves, always with that un- 
changing stateliness of gait. As we spun round the circle, she 
leaned inward like a cyclist against the centrifugal pull. She 
needs no banking of the track to keep her on the rail. A line of 
rails to travel on, and ground that will carry her weight — she 
asks no more. With these and a clear road ahead, she is to abol- 
ish distance and revise the world's schedules of time. 

"A hundred and twenty miles an hour," I hear Brennan say- 
ing, in that sad voice of his; *'or maybe two hundred. That's a 
detail." 

In the back of the cab were broad unglazed windows, through 
which one could watch the tangle of machinery. Dynamos are 
bolted to the floor, purring under their shields like comfortable 
cats; abaft of them a twenty-horse-power Wolseley petrol-engine 
suppUes motive power for everything. And above the dynamos, 
cased in studded leather, swinging a little in their ordered preces* 
sion, are the two gyroscopes, the soul of the machine. To them 
she owes her equilibrium. 

Of all machines in the world, the gyroscope is the simplest, for, 
in its essential form, it is no more than a wheel revolving. But a 
wheel revolving is the vehicle of many physical principles, and 
the sum of them is that which is known as gyroscopic action. It 
is seen in the ordinary spinning top, which stands erect in its 
capacity of a gyroscope revolving horizontally. The apparatus 
that holds Brennan' s car upright, and promises to revolutionize 
transportation, is a top adapted to a new purpose. It is a gyro- 
scope revolving in a perpendicular plane, a steel wheel weighing 
three quarters of a ton and spinning at the rate of three thousand 
revolutions to the minute. 

Now, the effect of gyroscopic action is to resist any impulse 



THE BRENNAN MONO-RAIL CAR 277 

that tends to move the revolving wheel out of the plane in which 
it revolves. This resistance can be felt in a top; it can be felt 
much more strongly in the beautiful little gyroscopes of brass and 
steel that are sold for the scientific demonstration of the laws 
governing revolving bodies. Such a one, only a few inches in 
size, will develop a surprising resistance. This resistance in- 
creases with the weight of the wheel and the speed at which it 
moves, till, with Brennan's gyroscopes of three quarters of a ton 
each, whirling in a vacuum at three thousand revolutions per 
minute, it would need a weight that would crush the car into the 
ground to throw them from their upright plane. 

Readers of McClure's Magazine were made familiar with the 
working of Brennan's gyroscope by Mr. Cleveland Moffett's arti- 
cle in the issue of December, 1907. The occasion of that article 
was the exhibition of Brennan's model mono-rail car before the 
Royal Society and in the grounds of his residence at Gillingham. 
For a clear understanding of the first full-sized car, it may be well 
to recapitulate a few of the characteristics of the gyroscope. 

When Brennan made his early models, he found that, while the 
little cars would remain upright and run along a straight rail, 
they left the track at the first curve. The gyroscope governed 
their direction as well as their equilibrium. It was the first check 
in the evolution of the perfect machine. It was over ten years 
before he found the answer to the problem — ten years of making 
experimental machines and scrapping them, of filing useless pat- 
ents, of doubt and persistence. But the answer was found — in 
the spinning top. 

A spinning top set down so that it stands at an angle to the 
floor will right itself; it will rise till it stands upright on the point 
of equal friction. Brennan's resource, therefore, was to treat his 
gyroscope as a top. He enclosed it in a case, through which its 
axles projected, and at each side of the car he built stout brackets 
reaching forth a few inches below each end of the axle. 

The result is not difficult to deduce. When the car came to a 
curve, the centrifugal action tended to throw it outward; the side 
of the car that was on the inside of the curve swung up and the 
bracket touched the axle of the gyroscope. Forthwith, in the 
manner of its father, the top, the gyroscope tried to stand up- 
right on the bracket; all the weight of it and all its wonderful 
force were pressed on that side of the car, holding it down against 
the tendency to rise and capsize. The thing was done; the spin- 
ning top had come to the rescue of its posterity. It only re- 



278 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

mained to fit a double gyroscope, with the wheels revolving in op- 
posite directions, and, save for engineering details, the mono-rail 
car was evolved. 

Through the window in the back of the cab I was able to watch 
them at their work — not the actual gyroscopes, but their cases, 
quivering with the unimaginable velocity of the great wheels 
within, turning and tilting accurately to each shifting weight as 
the men on board moved here and there. Above them were the 
glass oilcups, with the opal-green engine-oil flushing thi'ough 
them to feed the bearings. Lubrication is a vital part of the ma- 
chine. Let that fail, and the axles, grinding and red-hot, would 
eat through the white metal of the bearings as a knife goes 
through butter. It is a thing that has been foreseen by the inven- 
tor: to the lubricating apparatus is affixed a danger signal that 
would instantly warn the engineer. 

'* But," says Brennan, "if one broke down, the other gyroscope 
would hold her up — till ye could run her to a siding, anj^way." 

"But supposing the electric apparatus failed.?" suggests a re- 
porter — with visions of headlines, perhaps. "Supposing the 
motor driving the gyroscopes broke down; what then.?*" 

"They'd run for a couple of days, with the momentum they've 
got," answers the inventor. "And for two or three hours, that 
'ud keep her upright by itself." 

On the short track at Gillingham there are no gradients to show 
what the car can do in the way of chmbing, but here again the in- 
ventor is positive. She will run up a slope as steep as one in six, 
he says. There is no reason to doubt him; the five-foot model 
that he used to exhibit could climb much steeper inclines, run 
along a rope stretched six feet above the ground, or remain at rest 
upon it while the rope was swung to and fro. It would do all 
these things while carrying a man; and, for my part, I am wilhng 
to take Brennan's word. 

Louis Brennan himself was by no means the least interesting 
feature of the demonstration. He has none of the look of the 
visionary, this man who has gone to war with time and space; 
neither had George Stephenson. He is short and thick-set, with 
a full face, a heavy moustache hiding his mouth, and heavy eye- 
brows. He is troubled a little vnih. asthma, which makes him 
somewhat staccato and breathless in speech, and perhaps also 
accentuates the peculiar plaintive quality of his Irish voice. 
There is nothing in his appearance to indicate whether he is 
thirty-five or fifty-five. As a matter of fact, he is two years over 



THE BRENNAN MONO-RAIL CAR 279 

the latter age, but a man ripe in life, with that persistence and 
belief in his work which is to engineers what passion is to a poet. 

The technicalities of steel and iron come easily off his tongue; 
they are his native speech, in which he expresses himself most in- 
timately. All his life he has been concerned with machines. He 
is the inventor of the Brennan steerable torpedo, whose adoption 
by the Admiralty made him rich and rendered possible the long 
years of study and experiment that went to the making of the 
mono-rail car. He has a touch of the rich man's complacency; it 
does not go ill with his kindly good humor and his single-hearted 
pride in his life work. 

It is characteristic, I think, of his honesty of purpose and of the 
genius that is his driving force that hitherto he has concerned 
himself with scientific invention somewhat to the exclusion of the 
commercial aspects of his contrivance. He has had help in 
money and men from the British Government, wliich likewise 
placed the torpedo factory at his disposal; and the governments 
of India and — of all places — Kashmir have granted him sub- 
sidies. Railroad men from all parts of the world have seen his 
model; but he has not been ardent in the hunt for customers. 
Perhaps that will not be necessary; the mono-rail car should be 
its own salesman; but, in the meantime, it is not amiss that a 
great inventor should stand aloof from commerce. 

But, for all the cheerful matter-of-factness of the man, he, too, 
has seen visions. There are times when he talks of the future as 
he hopes it will be, as he means it to be, when "transportation is 
civilization." Men are to travel then on a single rail, in great 
cars like halls, two hundred feet long, thirty to forty feet wide, 
whirling across continents at two hundred miles an hour — from 
New York to San Francisco between dawn and dawn. 

Travel will no longer be uncomfortable. These cars, equipped 
like a hotel, will sweep along with the motion of an ice-yacht. 
They will not jolt over uneven places, or strain to mount the 
track at curves; in each one, the weariless gyroscopes will govern 
an unchanging equilibrium. Trustful Kashmir will advance 
from its remoteness to a place accessible from anywhere. Street- 
car lines will no longer be a perplexity to paving authorities 
and anathema to other traffic ; a single rail will be flush with the 
ground, out of the way of hoofs and tires. Automobiles will run 
on two wheels like a bicycle. It is to be a mono-rail world, 
soothed and assured by the drone of gyroscopes. By that time 
the patient ingenuity of inventors and engineers will have found 



280 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

the means to run the gyroscopes at a greater speed than is now 
possible, thus rendering it feasible to use a smaller wheel. It is a 
dream based on good, soUd reasoning, backed by a great inven- 
tor's careful calculations; H. G. Wells has given a picture of it in 
the last of his stories of the future. 

Practical railroad men have given to the mono-rail car a suffi- 
ciently warm welcome. They have been impressed chiefly by its 
suitabiHty to the conditions of transportation in the great new 
countries, as, for instance, on that line of railway that is creeping 
north from the Zambesi to open up the copper deposits of north- 
western Rhodesia, and on through Central Africa to its terminus 
at Cairo. Just such land as this helped to inspire Brennan. He 
was a boy when he first saw the endless plains of Australia, and 
out of that experience grew his first speculations about the future 
of railway travel. Such lands make positive and clear demands, 
if ever they are to be exploited for their full value to humanity. 
They need railways quickly laid and cheaply constructed; fines 
not too exacting in point of curves and gradients; and, finaUy, 
fast travel. It is not difficult to see how valuable the mono-rail 
would have been in such an emergency as the last Sudan War, 
when the army dragged a fine of rafiway with it down toward 
Omdurman. Petrol-driven cars to replace the expensive steam 
locomotives, easy rapid transit instead of the laborious crawl 
through the stifling desert heat — a complete railway installation, 
swiftly and cheaply caUed into being, instead of a costly and cum- 
bersome makeshift. 

The car went back to her garage, or engine-shed, or stable, or 
whatever the railway man of the future shaU decide to call it. 
Struts were pulled into position to hold her up, the motors were 
switched off, and the g^Toscopes were left to run themselves 
down in forty-eight hours or so. When the mono-rail comes 
into general use, explained Brennan, there will be docks for 
the cars, with low brick walls built to slide under the platforms 
and take their weight. 

While his guests assembled in a store-shed to drink champagne 
and eat sandwiches, he produced a big flat book, sumptuously 
bound, and told us how his patents were being infringed on in 
Germany. On that same day there was an exhibition of a mono- 
rail car on the Brennan principle taking place at the Zoological 
Gardens in Berlin; the book was its catalogue. It was fuU of 
imaginative pictures of trains fifty years hence, and thereto was 



A NEW POLITICAL WEDGE 281 

appended sanguine letter-press. While there sounded in our ears 
the hum of the gyroscopes from the car housed in the rear, I 
translated one paragraph for him. It was to the effect that one 
Brennan, an Englishman, had conducted experiments with gyro- 
scopes ten years ago, but the matter had gone no further. 
"There, now," said Brennan. 



{Everybody's Magazine) 

A NEW POLITICAL WEDGE 

The Way St. Louis Women Drove a Nine-Hour Day 

into the Law 

By INIS H. weed 

It was the evening before the state primaries — a sweltering 
first of August night in the tenement district of St. Louis, where 
the factory people eat their suppers and have their beds. Men 
in shirt-sleeves and women with babies sat on the steps for a 
breath of air, and the streets were a noisy welter of children. 

Two of the most enthusiastic girls in the Women's Trade 
Union League stopped before the group silhouetted in the gas- 
light at No. 32 and handed the men in the group this card: 



Republican Vote rs 

It is the Women and Children that are the Victims of Manu- 

f acturera and Manufacturers AsBociations 

and it is the 

WORKING WOMAN AND CHILD 

that demandB your protection, at the 

PRIMARIES, TUESDAY, AUGUST 2nd 

Scratch 



E. J. TROY 



Secretary St. Louis Manufacturers Association and run by them 
on the Republican Ticket for the Legislature in the Ist District 

Compriaing WARDS 10, 11, 12, 13. and 24. Precincts 14 of the 15th WARD. 
Preoinots 1, 2, 3 of the 23rd WARD. Preoinctsl, 2of the25th WARD. Pre- 
omcts 6, 7, 10, 11, 12, 13 of the 14th WARD. Preoincts 1, 4, 6 of the 9th WARD 



" So yez would be af ther havin' me scratch Misther Troy? " 
Mike Ryan ran his fingers through his stubby crop with a puzzled 
air. " Oi'm always fur plazin' the loidies, but Misther Troy, he 's 
a frind o' mine. Shure, he shmokes a grand cigar, an' he shakes 
yer hand that hearty." 



282 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

So Mike belonged to the long, long glad-hand line. Well, per- 
sonal arguments were necessary in his case then. That was the 
way the girls sized up Mike Ryan. 

''But this ticket has something to do with your oldest girl." 

''WithBriddie.?" 

" It sure does, Mr. Ryan. Did n't I hear your wife tellin' what 
with the hard times an' all, you'd be puttin' Briddie in the mill 
this winter as soon as ever she's turned fourteen.'^ Wouldn't 
you rather they worked her nine hours a day instead o' ten — 
such a soft Uttle kid with such a lot o' gro\\dn' to do? There's a 
lot of us goin' to fight for a Nine-Hour Bill for the women and 
children this winter, an' do you think a manufacturers' represen- 
tative, like Troy, is goin' to help us.^ Look at his record! See 
how he's fought the employees' interests in the legislature! 
That 's a part of his job ! He won't vote for no Nine-Hour Bill! " 

And the two girls went on to the next tenement. 

They were only two of the hundreds of Trade Union girls who 
were "doing" the First Electoral District (about one- third of St. 
Louis) on the eve of the primaries. They were thorough. They 
had the whole district organized on the block system, and they 
went over each block house by house. 

A new move, is it not, this carefully organized effort of factory 
women to secure justice through the ballot-box ? 

How have St. Louis women attained this clear vision that their 
industrial future is bound up in pohtics.^ It is a three years' 
story. Let us go back a Httle. 

St. Louis is essentially a consers^ative city. First, it was an 
old French town; then a Southern town; then a German trades- 
man's town. With such strata superimposed one above the 
other, it could hardly be other than conserv^ative. In addition, 
St. Louis was crippled in the war between the states. She lost 
her market. This made her slow. 

In the 'eighties, this old French-Southem-German city began 
to recover from the ruin of her Southern trade. Little by httle 
she took heart, for the great Southwest was being settled. There 
was a new field in which to build up trade. To-day St. Louis is 
the great wholesale and jobbing depot, the manufacturing city for 
that vast stretch of territorj^ known as the Southwest. 

Since 1890, great fortunes have been amassed — most of them, 
indeed, in the past ten years. There has been a rapid gro^i:h of 
industry. The old Southern city has become a soft-coal factory 
center. A pall of smoke hangs over the center of the city where 



A NEW POLITICAL WEDGE 283 

the factories roar and pound. In the midst of this gloom the 
workfolk are creating rivers of beer, carloads of shoes and wood- 
enware, millions of garments and bags, and the thousand and one 
things necessary to fill the orders of hundreds of traveling sales- 
men in the Southwest territory — and in the South, too, for St. 
Louis is winning back some of her old-time trade. 

And the toil of their lifting hands and flying fingers has wrought 
a golden age for the men who control the capital and the tools. 
The men who manage have been shaking hands in their clubs for 
the past decade and congratulating themselves and each other 
over their drinks. "Yes, St. Louis is a grand old business town. 
SoHd! No mushroom real-estate booms, you know, but a big, 
steady growth. New plants starting every month and the old 
ones growing. Then, when we get our deep waterway, that's 
going to be another big shove toward prosperity. 

'^ Nice town to live in, too! Look at our handsome houses and 
clubs and public buildings. Never was anything hke our World's 
Fair in the history of men — never! Look at our parks, too. 
When we get 'em linked together with speedways, where '11 you 
find anything prettier?" Thus the money-makers in this heavy 
German town. 

But what about the employees — the clerks and the factory 
workers.'* Have they been "in" on this "big shove toward 
prosperity.?" Have they found it a "nice" town to live 
in.? 

No, to each count. For the people at the bottom of the ladder 
— for the people who tend machines, dig ditches, and stand 
behind the notion counter — St. Louis is a smoky town, where 
people have gray lungs instead of pink; a town where franchise 
grabbing and an antiquated system of taxation have their conse- 
quence of more than New York city rents. A town whose slums, 
says Lee Frankel, are the worst in the country. A town where 
wages are low (in some occupations twenty-five per cent, lower 
than in New York City); where employment is irregular, the 
speeding-up tremendous, the number of women entering industry 
steadily increasing, and where the influx of immigrant labor is 
pulling down the wage scale and the standard of living. 

The average wage of the shoe-workers in the East is $550 per 
year. In St. Louis it is $440 if work is steady — and rents are 
higher than in New York City. 

It must be remembered that this sum is an average, and that 
thousands of shoe-workers earn less than $440, for full-time work. 



284 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

The same is true of thousands engaged in other kinds of manu- 
facture and in department stores. 

Somehow the town looks different from the two ends of the 
ladder. 

The government of Missouri and St. Louis has been about as 
little adapted to the needs of the industrial worker as it well 
could be. Men have been concerned not so much with social 
justice as with government protection for money-making schemes. 
Business opportunity has depended much on pliable state and 
municipal laws. How the interests fought to keep them phable; 
how St. Louis and Missouri became a world scandal in this 
steady growth to riches, we all know. 

We know, too, the period of political reform. People thought 
the killing trouble in Missouri lay largely with the governmental 
machinery; and the optimists' faith in a state primary law, in the 
initiative and referendum as panacea, was white and shining. 
They did not see that the underlying problem is industrial. 

After the reform wave had spent itself, the crooked people who 
had kept out of jail crept from their holes and went back to their 
old job of beating the game. The only essential difference is that 
their methods to-day are less raw and crude. They play a more 
gentlemanly game; but the people are still robbed of their rights. 
Thus it came to pass that when the cheerful optimist went to 
the cupboard to get his poor dog a bone, why, lo! the cupboard 
was bare. 

Meantime the dog has taken up the struggle for social justice 
on his o-^Ti account, not singly but in groups and packs. As yet, 
although a deal of snuffing, running to and fro, barking, j'^lping, 
and fighting has been done, Httle has been accomplished; for one 
reason, because labor has lacked great organizers in St. Louis. 

It has remained for the working women of St. Louis to make the 
industrial idea effective and to reach out with united single pur- 
pose to bend the pofitical bow for their protection. 

The Women's Trade Union League, whose real general is Cyn- 
thelia Isgrig Knefler, the most dynamic woman in St. Louis, re- 
ceived its first impetus only three years ago in the idealism of a 
brilliant young Irish girl, Hannah Hennessy, who died at Thanks- 
giving, 1910, a victim of exhausting work in a garment shop and 
of her own tireless efforts to organize the working girls of her 
city. 

Hannah Hennessy was sent by the Garment Workers' Union 
to the National Labor Convention of 1907 at Norfolk, Virginia. 



A NEW POLITICAL WEDGE 285 

There she glimpsed for the first time the inevitable great world 
march of women following industry as machinery takes it out of 
the home and into the shop — saw these women, blind, unorgan- 
ized, helpless to cope with the conditions offered by organized 
capital. The vision fired this Irish girl to a pitch of enthusiasm 
peculiar to the Celtic temperament. Back she came to St. Louis 
with the spirit of the Crusaders, her vision "the eight-hour day, 
the Uving wage to guard the home." 

For the first time she saw the broken physical future of women 
who label three thousand five hundred bottles of beer an hour, 
and accept their cuts and gashes from the bursting bottles as in- 
evitable; of women who put eyelets on a hundred cases of shoes a 
day, twenty-four pairs to the case; of women who must weave 
one thousand yards of hemp cloth a day to hold their job in a mill 
where the possible speed of woman and machine is so nicely cal- 
culated that the speediest person in the factory can weave only 
twelve hundred and sixty yards a day; where the lint from this 
hemp fills the air and is so injurious to eyes and throat that the 
company furnishes medical attendance free. 

To undertake the huge task of organizing these thousands of 
St. Louis women would require not only vision but time and en- 
ergy. Hannah's return meant being engulfed in the vast roar 
made by rows of throbbing, whirring machines, into one of which 
she sewed her vitality at dizzy speed ten hours a day. Vision she 
had, but training, time, energy — no! 

It was at this point that she met Cynthelia Isgrig Knefler, a 
leisure-class young woman, who had been gripped by a sense of 
the unevenness of the human struggle. Cynthelia Knefler was 
groping her way through the maze of settlement activities to an 
appreciation of their relative futihty in the face of long hours, 
low wages, and unsanitary shops. 

Then the idealism of these two young women, born on the one 
hand of hard experience, on the other of a gentle existence, fused, 
and burned with a white light whose power is beginning to touch 
the lives of the women who toil and spin for the great Southwest. 

Both women possessed fire and eloquence. Hannah's special 
contribution was first-hand experience; Mrs. Knefler's the knowl- 
edge of economic conditions necessary to an understanding of 
our complicated labor problems. Wise, sane, conservative, Mrs. 
Knefler not only helped Hannah to organize branch after branch 
of the Women's Trade Union League in the different industries, 
but set out at once to train strong, intelligent leaders. She stim- 



286 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

ulated them to a critical study of labor laws with the evolution of 

industry for background. 

Night after night for two years Mrs. Knefler and Hannah were 
out organizing groups of girls. Mrs. Knefler's friends finally 
stopped remonstrating with her. Hannah, utterly seK-forgetful 
despite ten hours a day in the mills, hurled herself into the new 
work. Evening after evening her mother protested anxiously, 
but Hannah, heedless of her own interest, would eat her supper 
and hurry across the city to help groups of new girls — American, 
Russian, Roumanian — a confused mass, to find themselves and 
pull together. 

One June morning in 1910 the papers announced that the 
Manufacturers' Association and the Business Men's League had 
decided on E. J. Troy as their candidate to the State Legislature 
for the First District. His candidacy was also backed by the 
Republican machine. The papers went on to say that E. J. Troy 
was one of "our ablest and most popular fellow townsmen," that 
he had grown up in his district, had a host of friends, and might 
be expected to carry the primaries by a big majority. 

That evening at the weekly dinner of the officers of the Wom- 
en's Trade Union League at the Settlement, Mrs. Knefler hurried 
in: "Girls, have you seen the morning papers? Do you know 
that we've got E. J. Troy to contend with again?" 

At the same moment in dashed Hannah Hennessy by another 
door, calling out, "Girls, they're goin' to put Troy on the carpet 
again!" 

To both speeches came half a dozen excited replies that that's 
just what they were talking about! 

Over the potatoes and meat and bread-pudding the situation 
was discussed in detail. 

"Yes, 'twas him, all right, that thought up most of those 
tricky moves when we was tryin' to get our Nine-Hour Bill be- 
fore," reflected a wiry, quick-motioned girl during a second's 
pause. 

"Don't it just make you boil," began another, "when you 
think how he riled 'em up at every four corners in Missouri! He 
had every old country storekeeper standin' on end about that 
Nine-Hour Bill. He had 'em puttin' on their specs and calUn' to 
mother to come and Usten to this information the manufacturers 
had sent him: — how the labor unions was tryin' to get a Nine- 
Hour Bill for women passed; how it would keep their youngest 
girl, Bessie, from helping in the store when the farmers drove 



A NEW POLITICAL WEDGE 287 

in of a Saturday night; and how it was a blow at American 
freedom." 

''E. J. Troy's got to be squenched at the primaries," said a 
third, quietly and decisively. 

"But how.f* " asked a more timid officer. 

Bing! Mrs. Knefler got into action. There never was a 
woman for whom a difficult situation offered a more bracing tonic 
quality. The business meeting that followed fairly bristled with 
plans. 

The girls' first move was to go before the Central Labor Body 
and ask them to indorse their objections to E. J. Troy. Definite 
action beyond indorsement the girls did not ask or expect. This 
much they got. 

One day a little later, when Mrs. Knefler's campaign was be- 
ginning to take form, a representative of E. J. Troy called Mrs. 
Knefler on the telephone. The voice was bland, smooth, and 
very friendly. "Would n't she — that is — ah — er — would n't 
her organization confer with Mr. E. J. Troy? He felt sure they 
would come to a pleasant and mutually helpful understanding. 

Mrs. Knefler explained to the mouthpiece (take it either way) 
that it would be quite useless; that the stand of the League was 
taken on Mr. Troy's previous record and on the ''interests" he 
represented; that while they had nothing against him in his pri- 
vate capacity, as a public servant they must oppose him. All 
this in Mrs. Knefler's suavest fashion. She feels intensely, but 
she never loses her seK-possession. That's why she is such a 
formidable antagonist. 

It was the last week in June — they had just a month before 
the primaries in which to rouse public opinion. The newspapers 
must help, of course. 

Mrs. Knefler went to the editors. They were polite, they ad- 
mitted the justice of her stand, but they were evasive. Mrs. 
Knefler opened her paper the next morning after she had made 
the rounds, to find not a single word about the danger to the 
working woman's interests. 

What could the papers do? Were n't they in the hands of the 
"big cinch," as a certain combination of business men in St. 
Louis is known? Naturally they refused to print a line. You 
never step on your own toe, do you, or hit yourself in the face — 
if you can help it? 

One must admit that things looked bad for the League. How 
were girls who raced at machines all day, who had neither money 



288 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

nor the voice of the press, to rouse this sluggish, corrupt city to 
the menace of sending to the legislature men like E. J. Troy, 
pledged body and soul to the manufacturers? How could they 
waken the pubhc to woman's bitter necessity for shorter hours? 
The case looked hopeless, but Mrs. Knefler merely set her teeth, 
and got busy — decidedly busy. 

She planned a campaign that no other St. Louis woman in her 
class would have had the courage to tackle. Mrs. Knefler is a 
member of the club that is the St. Louis clubwomen's "holy of 
holies." They have a club-house that just drips art, and they 
steep themselves in self-culture. As a group their consciousness 
of the city's industrial problems is still nebulous. The high hght 
in which Mrs. Ejiefler's work must inevitably stand out is inten- 
sified by this background of self-culture women, with a few — 
only a few — rash daughters shivering around preparatory to 
taking their first cold plunge in the suffrage pool. 

In such an atmosphere Cjnithelia Knefler planned and carried 
out the biggest, the most modern and strategic campaign for the 
working woman ever waged outside a suffrage state. It was done 
simply because her heart was filled with the need of the thou- 
sands of helpless, unorganized girls for protection from the greed 
of organized capital. 

There are moments when love gives vision and raises us head 
and shoulders above our group. So it was with Cynthelia Knef- 
ler, brought up in this conservative city, educated in a prunes- 
and-prisms girls' school, steeped in the Southern idea that no 
"lady" would ever let her picture or her opinions get into the 
newspapers, and that making pubUc speeches was quite unthink- 
able! 

The press was silent, but at least Mrs. ICnefler could speak to 
the labor unions. She and two other women appealed to every 
labor union in St. Louis with a speech against E. J. Troy. They 
fought him — not as a man, but as a representative of the ''big 
interests." Mrs. Knefler made seventy-six speeches in that one 
month before the primaries. That meant hurrying from hall to 
hall on hot summer nights and making two speeches, and some- 
times three and four, while her friends were wearing white muslin 
and sitting on the gallery, to get the cool of the evening. 

Mrs. Knefler's mind was working like a trip-hammer that 
month; seeking ways and means for rousing the busy, unthink- 
ing, conglomerate mass of people to the real issue. Money in the 
League was scarce. There are no rich members. But out of 



A NEW POLITICAL WEDGE 289 

their wages and out of raffles and entertainments the League had 
a small reserve. Part of this they used to print sixty thousand 
cards. So that when you went in to get a shave your glance was 
caught, as the barber turned your head, by this red ticket: 
** Scratch E. J. Troy." When you stopped in for a loaf of bread, a 
red ticket belaind the glass of the case advised you to "Scratch 
E. J. Troy." When you went in for a drink, there leaped into 
sight dozens of little red tickets: "Scratch E. J. Troy." 

There are always some men, though, who are moved only by 
the big, noisy things of life. Only Schneider's band sounds like 
music to them; only "Twenty Buckets of Blood, or Dead Man's 
Gulch" appeals to them as literature; and the only speaker is the 
man who rips out Old Glory and defies forked lightning. In a 
political campaign the little red ticket is lost on that kind of man. 
Mrs. Knefler understood this. So one hot July day huge posters 
in high, wood-block letters screamed from billboards and the walls 
of saloons and barber shops and labor halls: "Union men and 
friends. Scratch E. J. Troy." 

All this printing and bill-posting was expensive for working 
girls. They came back at the Central Labor body again. "Your 
sympathy is great, but your funds are better," they said. 

"You've tackled too big a job," the Labor leaders told the 
girls, with a benevolent air. "He's the candy around this town 
— E. J. Troy is. It would take a mint of money to beat E. J. 
Troy." 

However, the Central body instructed the legislative commit- 
tee of five to give the girls every help, and they did good service. 
But the Central Body did n't instruct the Conamittee to go down 
very far into the treasury. 

July was wearing on. The League hurled itseK upon the press 
once more. Surely after so much speech-making and bill-posting 
the editors would accord them some recognition merely as news. 
Silence — absolute silence in the next day's papers, and the next. 

How did they accomplish the next move.? That is one of the 
secrets. Their money was gone, the silence of the press had 
crushed them with an overwhelming sense of helplessness, but 
nevertheless they turned the trick. They reached the upper and 
middle class readers of the South Side District, Troy's district, 
which the papers were determined to keep as much in ignorance 
as possible. All one night, silent, swift-moving men whipped the 
paste across the billboards of that section and slapped on huge 
posters, so that when Papa Smith and young Mr. Jones and 



290 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Banker Green came out of their comfortable houses next morning 
on their way to business, they neglected their papers to find out 
why they should "scratch E. J. Troy." 

The day of the primaries was almost come. Now to reach the 
dull fellows who had n't seen the cards and the huge posters, who 
use their eyes only to avoid obstacles. One night, as the factory 
whistles blew the signal of dismissal, the men in the lines of opera- 
tors who filed out of shop and mills found themselves mechani- 
cally taking and examining this ticket handed them by League 
girls, who had gone off their job a bit early and had their wages 
docked in order to work for the larger good. 

The Committee of the Central Body was now openly active in 
their behalf. Men as well as women were passing out the tickets. 

Then came the eve of the election. Busy pairs of girls who had 
already done ten hours' work were going over E. J. Troy's dis- 
trict, with its sections of rich and poor and well-to-do. Throb- 
bing feet that had carried the body's weight ten hot, fatiguing 
hours hurried up and down the blocks, climbed flight after flight 
of stairs, and stood at door after door. 

"Say, kid, ain't it the limit that a woman can't vote on her own 
business? " said one girl to another after they had finished the one 
hundred and forty-fifth family and tried to explain their stake in 
the election to a bigoted "head of the house." 

On the morning of the primaries Mrs. Schurz, as she took the 
coffee off the stove, remonstrated with her oldest daughter, 
Minna. "Vat, Minna, you ain't goin' to stay out of de mill to- 
day and lose your pay?" 

"Yes, I be, Mutter,'' retorted Minna, with a tightening of the 
lips and a light in her eye. "I'm goin' to the polls to hand out 
cards to the voters. I'm goin'. I don't care if I lose my job 
even." 

" Oh, Minna, dat is bad, and me wid four kinder to eat de food. 
Where is de fleisch and de brot widout your wages?" Mrs. 
Schurz's heavy face wore the anxious despondence so common to 
the mothers of the poor. 

The girl hesitated, then tightened her lips once more. " I 've 
got to take the risk, Mutter. It'll come out right — it's got to. 
Do you want the rest of the children workin' ten hours a day too? 
Look at me! I aia't got no looks any more. I 'm too dead tired 
to go out of a Saturday night. I can't give nobody a good time 
any more. I guess there won't be no weddin' bells for mine — 



A NEW POLITICAL WEDGE 291 

ever. But the kids" — pointing to the inside bedroom, where 
the younger girls were still asleep — ''the kids is a-goin' to keep 
their looks." 

So at six o'clock Minna joined the relays of working girls who 
— many of them, like Minna, at personal risk and sacrifice — 
handed out cards all day to each man who entered. Thus the 
men were reminded at the last moment of the working woman's 
stake in the election. ''Scratch E. J. Troy" was before their 
eyes as they crossed their tickets. 

Every moment of the day there were alert girls to make this 
final quiet appeal for justice. They were serious, dignified. 
There was no jeering, no mirth on the part of the men at the 
novelty of this campaign — nothing to make any woman self- 
conscious. 

The girls were quiet enough outwardly, but the inner drama 
was keyed high. Had all their speech-making, placarding, bill- 
posting and the canvassing of factories, blocks, and primaries — 
had all their little savings, their risk and personal sacrifice ac- 
complished anything.? That was what the girls asked them- 
selves. The thermometer of their hope rose and fell with the 
rumors of the day. The fathers of the Central Labor Body 
patted them on the head benevolently and tried to ease their fall, 
if they were to fall, by saying that anyway it would be something 
to make Troy run third on his ticket. 

Seven o'clock, and the girls were leaving the primaries in twos 
and threes, tired but excitedly discussing the situation. Be- 
tween hope and despondency the comment varied on the streets, 
at the supper-tables, and in the eager, waiting groups of girls on 
tenement steps and stairs. 

At last came the authentic returns. E. J. Troy ran 8,338 votes 
behind his ticket. With a silent press and practically no money, the 
working women had defeated one of the most popular men in St, 
Louis. 

A man pledged to the interests of labor legislation won his 
place. That made the outlook better for the Women's Nine- 
Hour Bill, and thousands of working girls tumbled into bed, tired, 
but with new hope. 

Every newspaper in St. Louis failed to comment on the 
victory. The slaves who sit at the editorial desk said they 
could n't — they were n't "let." So the most hopefid feature in 
St. Louis politics has never been commented on by the American 
press. 



292 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

As for Hannah Hennessy — she had been too ill to share in the 
active work of the campaign, but her influence was everywhere — 
a vital force, a continual inspiration. 

Week by week her cheeks grew thinner, her cough more rasp- 
ing. But after the campaign against Troy was over, she turned 
with the same intensity of interest to the National Convention of 
the American Federation of Labor which was to meet there in 
November. For a year she had been making plans, eager to 
make this coQvention a landmark in the history of women's la- 
bor. But in November she was in bed by the Httle grate fire in 
the family sitting-room. And when convention week came with 
its meetings a scant three blocks from her home, she could be 
there in spirit only; she waited restlessly for the girls to slip in 
after the daily sessions and live them over again for her. 

On Thanksgiving Day, between the exhausting strain of high- 
tension work and the zeal of the young reformer, her beautiful 
life and brilliant fire were burned out. The committee for the 
prevention of tuberculosis added her case to their statistics, and 
the League girls bore her into the hghted church. 

In the winter of 1910-11 the leaders of all the labor and social 
forces of St. Louis, all the organizations for various forms of up- 
lift, united under an able secretary and began their custom of 
lunching together once a week to discuss the pending social legis- 
lation. They played a good game. First, there was the educa- 
tional effect of their previous legislative campaign to build on. 
Then there was all the economy and impetus gained from consoU- 
dation. They knew the rules of the game better, too. Their 
plans were more carefully laid and executed. 

With a more wary and sophisticated eye on the Manufactur- 
ers' Association and a finger in the buttonhole of every legislator, 
the socially awake of St. Louis have secured more humane child 
labor legislation, and the Nine-Hour Day for women and children 
with no exception in favor of shop-keepers. 

Knowing the sickening fate of industrial legislation in certain 
other states when tried before judges whose social vision is fifty 
years behind the times, the winners of this new bill began to wait 
tensely enough for its testing. So far, however, the Women's 
Nine-Hour law has not been contested. It has also been excep- 
tionally well enforced, considering that there are only four factory 
inspectors for all the myriad shops and mills of this manufactur- 
ing city of the Southwest, and only seven factory inspectors for 
the whole state of Missouri. 



THE JOB LADY 293 

Meanwhile St. Louis's new political wedge, the Women's 
Trade Union League, continues to be a perfectly good political 
wedge. When there is legislation wanted, all kinds of organiza- 
tions invariably call upon this league of the working women, 
whose purpose is a wider social justice. 

St. Louis is another American city where the working women 
are discovering that they can do things if they only think so. 



{The Delineator) 

Illustrated by two pen-and-ink sketches made by a staff artist. 

THE JOB LADY 

Gives the Young Wage-Earner a Fair Working 
Chance 

By MARY E. TITZEL 

The Jones School, the oldest public school building in Chicago, 
is at Harrison Street and Plymouth Court. When it was new, it 
was surrounded by "brown-stone fronts," and boys and girls who 
to-day are among the city's most influential citizens learned their 
A-B-C's within its walls. Now, the office-buildings and printing- 
houses and cheap hotels and burlesque shows that mark the 
noisy, grimy district south of the "loop" crowd in upon it; and 
only an occasional shabby brown-stone front survives in the neigh- 
borhood as a tenement house. But in the Jones School, the proc- 
ess of making influential citizens is still going on. For there the 
"Job Lady" has her office, her sanctum. 

Job Lady is a generic term that includes Miss Aime Davis, di- 
rector of the Bureau of Vocational Supervision, and her four as- 
sistants. The Bureau • — which is the newest department of Chi- 
cago's school system — is really an emplojonent agency, but one 
that is different from any other employment agency in the United 
States. It is concerned solely with a much-neglected class of 
wage-earners — children from fourteen to sixteen years of age; 
and its chief purpose is, not to find positions for its "patrons," 
but to keep them in school. 

It was founded as a result of the discovery tliat there were not 
nearly enough jobs in Chicago to go around among the twelve 
or fifteen thousand children under sixteen years of age who left 



294 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

school each year to go to work; also that, though a statute of the 
State required a child either to work or to go to school, there were 
about twenty-three thousand youngsters in the city who were 
doing neither. The law had made no provision for keeping track 
of the children once they had left school. No one knew what had 
become of them. So Miss Davis, acting as special investigator 
for the School of Civics and Philanthropy and the Chicago Wom- 
en's Club, set to work to find out. 

She discovered — and she can show you statistics to prove it 
— that "bummin"' around, looking aimlessly for work, brought 
many a boy and girl, unable to withstand the temptations of the 
street, into the Juvenile Court. And she found, as other statis- 
tics bear witness, that the fate of the children who found jobs was 
scarcely better than that of their idle brothers and sisters. Un- 
directed, they took the first positions that offered, with the result 
that most of them were engaged in "blind-alley" occupations, 
unskilled industries that offered little, if any, chance for advance- 
ment and that gave no training for the future. The pay was 
poor; it averaged two dollars a week. Working conditions were 
frequently unhealthful. Moral influences of shop and factory 
and office were often bad. For the most part, the industries that 
employed children were seasonal; and many boys and girls were 
forced into long periods of inactivity between positions. This 
state of affairs, combined with a natural tendency to vary the 
monotony of life by shifting, on the slightest pretext, from one 
job to another, was making of many children that bane of modern 
industry, the "casual" laborer. 

The Bureau — started informally in the course of initial in- 
vestigations and kept alive through the grace of the Women's 
Club, until the Board of Education was ready to adopt it — has 
been able to do much in amelioration of the lot of the f ourteen-to- 
sixteen-year-old worker. But no statistics it can produce are as 
telling as the sight of the Bureau in operation. Sit with your 
eyes and ears open, in a corner of the office in the Jones School 
and you will make the acquaintance of one of the humanest em- 
ployment agencies in the world; also you ^dll learn more about 
such grave subjects as the needs of our educational sj^stem and 
the underlying causes of poverty than you can learn out of fat 
treatises in a year. 

"Why do 3'ou want to leave school?" That is the first ques- 
tion the Job Lady asks of each new applicant who comes to the 
Bureau for work. Perhaps the child has heard that question be- 



THE JOB LADY 295 

fore; for in those schools from which the greatest numbers of chil- 
dren go out at the age of fourteen, Miss Davis and her assistants 
hold office hours and interview each boy or girl who shows signs 
of restlessness. They give informal talks to the pupils of the sixth 
and seventh grades about the opportunities open to boys and 
girls under sixteen; they discuss the special training offered by 
the schools and show the advisability of remaining in school as 
long as possible; they try to find an opportunity of talking over 
the future with each member of the graduating class. 

But even when the way has been paved for it, the question, 
"Why do you want to leave school?" brings to light the most 
trivial of reasons. In very few cases is it economic necessity that 
drives a child to work. 

'' I ain't int'rusted," explained one boy to Miss Davis. " I jest 
sits." 

The Job Lady is often able to convince even the sitters that 
school is, after all, the best place for boys and girls under sixteen. 
She persuaded between twenty-five and thirty per cent, of the 
children that applied at the Bureau last year to return to school. 
Sometimes all she had to do was to give the child a plain state- 
ment of the facts in the case — of the poor work and poor pay 
and lack of opportunity in the industries open to the fourteen- 
year-old worker. Often she found it necessary only to explain 
what the school had to offer. One boy was sent to Miss Davis by 
a teacher who had advised him to go to work, although he had 
just completed the seventh grade, because he had "too much 
energy " for school! He was a bright boy — one capable of mak- 
ing something of himself, if the two important, formative years 
that must pass before he was sixteen were not wasted; so he was 
transferred from his school to one where vocational work was 
part of the curriculum — where he could find an outlet for his 
superfluous energy in working with his hands. Now he is doing 
high-school work creditably; and he has stopped talking about 
leaving school. 

But it is n't always the whim of the child that prompts him to 
cut short his education. Sometimes he is driven into the indus- 
trial world by the ignorance or greed of his parents. Miss Davis 
tells of one little girl who was sacrificed to the great god Labor 
because the four dollars she brought home weekly helped to pay 
the instalments on a piano, and of a boy who was taken from 
eighth grade just before graduation because his father had bought 
some property and needed a little extra money. Frequently 



296 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

boys and girls are put to work because of the impression that 
schools have nothing of practical value to offer. 

Still, even the most miserly and most stubborn and most ig- 
norant of parents can sometimes be made to see the wisdom of 
keeping a child in school until he is sixteen. They are won to the 
Job Lady's point of view by a statement of the increased oppor- 
tunity open to the child who is sixteen. Or they are brought to 
see that the schools are for all children, and that work, on the con- 
trary, is very bad for some children. 

But often all the Job Lady's efforts fail. The child is incurably 
sick of school, the parent remains obdurate. Or, perhaps, there 
is a very real need of what little the son or daughter can earn. 
Often some one can be found who will donate books, or a scholar- 
ship ranging from car-fare to a few dollars a week. Over four 
hundred dollars is being given out in scholarships each month, 
and every scholarship shows good returns. But often no schol- 
arship is forthcoming; and there is nothing for the Job Lady to do 
but find a position for the small applicant. 

Then begins the often difficult process of fitting the child to 
some available job. The process starts, really, with fitting the 
job to the child, and that is as it should be. The Job Lady al- 
ways tries to place the boys and girls that come to her office 
where there will be some chance for them to learn something. 
But jobs with a "future" are few for the fourteen-year-old 
worker. The trades will not receive apprentices under the age of 
sixteen; business houses and the higher-grade factories won't 
bother with youngsters, because they are too unreliable; as one 
man put it, with unconscious irony, too "childish." So the Job 
Lady must be content to send the boys out as office and errand 
boys or to find employment for the girls in binderies and novelty 
shops. But she investigates every position before a child is sent 
to fill it; and if it is found to be not up to standard in wages or 
working conditions, it is crossed off the Bureau's list. 

The Job Lady has established a minimum wage of four dollars 
a week. No children go out from the Bureau to work for less 
than that sum, excepting those who are placed in the part-time 
schools of some printing establishments, or in dressmaking shops, 
where they will be learning a useful trade. This informal mini- 
mum-wage law results in a raising of the standard of payment in 
a shop. 

In such manner, the Bureau makes over many a job to fit the 
worker. But the fitting process works both ways. The Job 



THE JOB LADY 297 

Lady knows that it is discouraging, often demoralizing, for a child 
to be turned away, just because he is not the "right person" for a 
place. So she tries to make sure that he is the right person. 
That she succeeds very often, the employers who have learned to 
rely on the Bureau will testify. 

"If you have n't a boy for me now," one man said to Miss 
Davis, " I '11 wait until you get one. It will save time in the end, 
for you always send just the boy I want." 

The secret of finding the right boy lies, first of all, in discover- 
ing what he wants to do; and, next, in judging whether or not he 
can do it. Very often, he has not the least idea of what he wants 
to do. He has learned many things in school, but httle or noth- 
ing of the industrial world in which he must live. To many boys 
and girls, especially to those from the poorest families, an "office 
job " is the acme of desire. It means to them, pitifully enough, a 
respectability they have never been quite able to encompass. As 
a result, perhaps, of our slow-changing educational ideals, they 
scorn the trades. 

Into the trades, however. Miss Davis finds it possible to steer 
many a boy who is obviously unfitted f or^ the career of lawyer, 
bank clerk, or, vaguely, "business man." And she is able to 
place others in the coveted office jobs, with their time-honored 
requirement: "only the neat, honest, intelligent boy need apply." 

Often, given the honesty and intelligence, she must manufac- 
ture a child to fit the description. Sometimes all that is necessary 
is a hint about soap and water and a clean collar. Sometimes the 
big cupboard in her office must yield up a half-worn suit or a pair 
of shoes that some luckier boy has outgrown. Occasionally, hers 
is the delicate task of suggesting to a prematurely sophisticated 
little girl that some employers have an unreasonable prejudice 
against rouge and earrings; or that even the poorest people can 
wash their underwear. Manners frequently come in for atten- 
tion. 

When the boys or girls are placed, the Bureau, unlike most em- 
ployment agencies, does not wash its hands of them. Its work 
has only begun. Each child is asked to report concerning his 
progress from time to time; and if he does not show up, a voca- 
tional supervisor keeps track of him by visits to home or office, or 
by letters, written quarterly. The Job Lady is able to observe 
by this method, whether or not the work is suitable for the child, 
or whether it offers him the best available chance; and she is often 
able to check the habit of "shifting" in its incipient stages. 



298 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

She is continually arbitrating and making adjustments, always 
ready to listen to childish woes and to allay them when she can. 

Not long ago, I went to a conference on Vocational Guidance. 
There I heard, from the mouths of various men, what hope the 
work being done by the Bureau held for the future. One showed 
how it had infused new blood into the veins of an anemic educa- 
tional system, how it was making the schools a more efficient 
preparation for life — the life of factory and shop and office — 
than they ever had been before. 

Another man pointed out that the Bureau, through the 
schools, would strike at one of the deep roots of poverty — in- 
competency. More people are poor for lack of proper equipment 
to earn a living and proper direction in choosing a vocation, he 
said, than for any other one reason. 

A third man saw in the Vocational Bureau a means of keeping 
a control over employing interests. "You treat our children well, 
and you pay them well," the schools of the future, he declared, 
would be able to say to the employer, as the Bureau was already 
saying, "or we won't permit our children to work for you." A 
fourth had a vision of what the Bureau and the new education it 
heralded could do toward educating the men and women of the 
future to a knowledge of their rights as workers. 

And then there came a man with a plea. "All of these 
things," he said, "the Bureau can accomplish — must accom- 
plish. But let us not forget, in our pursuance of great ends, that 
it is the essential humanness of the Bureau that has made it what 
it is." 

Here was the final, immeasurable measure of its success. It 
counts, of course, that the Job Lady helps along big causes, 
drives at the roots of big ills; but, somehow it counts more that 
an anxious-faced youngster I saw at the Bureau should have 
brought his woes to her. His employer had given him a problem 
to solve — and he could n't do it. He was afraid he'd lose his 
Job. He had never been to the Bureau before, but "a boy j^ou 
got a job for said you 'd help me out," he explained — and he was 
sent off happy, the problem solved. 

It counts too, that Tillie, who had once found work through 
the Bureau, but was now keeping house for her father, should 
turn to the Bureau for aid. Her father had been sick and 
could n't afford to buy her anything new to wear. " My dress is 
so clumsy," she wrote, "that the boys laugh at me when I go out 
in the street." She was confident that the Job Lady would help 



MARK TWAIN'S FIRST SWEETHEART 299 

her — and her confidence was not misplaced. It counts that the 
Jameses and Henrys and Johns and Marys and Sadies come, 
brimming over with joy, to tell the Job Lady of a "raise" or of a 
bit of approbation from an employer. All the funny, grateful, 
pathetic letters that pour in count unspeakably! 

To hundreds of boys and girls and parents the Job Lady has 
proved a friend. There has been no nonsense about the matter. 
She has not sentimentalized over her work; she has not made it 
smack of charity. Indeed, there is no charity about it. The boys 
and girls and parents who come to the Job Lady are, for the most 
part, just average boys and girls and parents, as little paupers as 
millionaires. They are the people who are gener,ally lost sight of 
in a democracy, where one must usually be well-to-do enough to 
buy assistance, or poor enough to accept it as alms, if he is to 
have any aid at all in solving the problems of life. 

It is a great thing for the schools, through the Bureau, to give 
to these average men and women and children practical aid in 
adjusting their lives to the conditions under which they live and 
work, and to do it with a sympathy and an understanding — a 
humanness that warms the soul. 



{Kansas City Star) 



Two illustrations with the captions: 

1. "Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher," an Illustration in 
the "Adventures of Tom Sawyer" (Harpers), which met the 
Author's Approval. 

2. Mrs. Laura Frazer, the Original " Becky Thatcher," Pour- 
ing Tea at Mark Twain's Boyhood Home in Hannibal, Mo., 
on the Anniversary of the Author's Birth. 

MARK TWAIN'S FIRST SWEETHEART, BECKY 

THATCHER, TELLS OF THEIR CHILDHOOD 

COURTSHIP 

To Mrs. Laura Frazer of Hannibal, Mo., Mark Twain's im- 
mortal "Adventurer of Tom Sawyer" is a rosary, and the book's 
plot is the cord of fiction on which beads of truth are strung. In 
the sunset of her life she tells them over, and if here and there 
among the roseate chaplet is a bead gray in coloring, time has 
softened the hues of all so they blend exquisitely. This bead re- 
calls a happy afternoon on the broad Mississippi with the boys 



800 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

and girls of seventy years ago; the next brings up a picture of a 
schoolroom where a score of Uttle heads bob over their books and 
slates, and a third visualizes a wonderful picnic excursion to the 
woods vnih. a feast of fried chicken and pie and cake. 

For Mrs. Frazer is the original of Becky Thatcher, the child- 
hood sweetheart of Tom Saw}^er, and the original of Tom Saw- 
yer, of course, was Mark Twain himself. 

"Yes, I was the Becky Thatcher of Mr. Clemens's book," Mrs. 
Frazer said the other day, as she sat in the big second floor front 
parlor of the old time mansion in Hannibal, which is now the 
Home for the Friendless. Mi's. Frazer is the matron of the home. 

"Of course I suspected it when I first read the 'Adventures of 
Tom Sawyer,'" she went on. "There were so many incidents 
which I recalled as happening to Sam Clemens and myself that I 
felt he had drawn a picture of his memory of me in the character 
of Judge Thatcher's little daughter. But I never confided my 
behef to anyone. I felt that it would be a presumption to take 
the honor to myself. 

"There were other women who had no such scruples — some 
of them right here in Hannibal — and they attempted to gain a 
little reflected notoriety by asserting that they were the proto- 
types of the character, ^\llen Albert Bigelow Paine, Mr. Clem- 
ens's biographer, gathered the material for his life of the author, 
he found no fewer than twenty-five w^omen, in Missouri and else- 
where, each of whom declared she was Becky Thatcher, but he 
settled the controversy for all time on Mr. Clemens's authority 
when the biography was published. In it you will find that 
Becky Thatcher was Laura Hawkins, which was my maiden 
name. 

"We were boy and girl sweethearts, Sam Clemens and I," Mrs. 
Frazer said -u-ith a gentle little laugh. 

She is elderly, of course, since it was seventy years ago that her 
friendship with Mark Twain began, and her hair is grsij. But 
her heart is young, and she finds in her work of mothering the 
twenty^-five boys and girls in her charge the secret of def jdng age. 
On this particular afternoon she wore black and white striped 
silk, the effect of which was a soft gray to match her hair, and her 
placid face was hghted -uith smiles of reminiscence. 

"Children are wholly unartificial, you know," she explained. 
"They do not learn to conceal their feehngs until they begin to 
grow up. The courtship of childhood, therefore, is a matter of 
preference and of comradeship. I liked Sam better than the other 



MARK TWAIN'S FIRST SWEETHEART SOI 

boys, and he liked me better than the other gbls, and that was all 
there was to it." 

If you had seen this lady of Old Missouri as she told of her 
childhood romance you would have recalled instinctively Mark 
Twain's description: 

A lovely little blue eyed creature with yellow hair plaited into two 
long tails, white summer frock and embroidered pantalettes. * * * He 
worshipped this new angel with furtive eye until he saw that she had 
discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, 
and began to "show off " in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order 
to win her admiration. 

And you would have found it easy to conceive that this refined, 
gentle countenance once was apple cheeked and rosy, that the 
serene gray eyes once sparkled as blue as the Father of Waters on 
a sunny day and that the frosted hair was as golden as the sun- 
shine. 

" I must have been 6 or 7 years old when we moved to Hanni- 
bal," Mrs. Frazer said. "My father had owned a big mill and a 
store and a plantation worked by many negro slaves further in- 
land, but he found the task of managing all too heavy for him, 
and so he bought a home in Hannibal and was preparing to move 
to it when he died. My mother left the mill and the plantation 
in the hands of my grown brothers — I was one of ten children, 
by the way — and came to Hannibal. Our house stood at the 
corner of Hill and Main streets, and just a few doors west, on Hill 
Street, lived the Clemens family. 

"I think I must have liked Sam Clemens the very first time I 
saw him. He was different from the other boys. I did n't know 
then, of course, what it was that made him different, but after- 
ward, when my knowledge of the world and its people grew, I 
realized that it was his natural refinement. He played hookey 
from school, he cared nothing at all for his books and he was 
guilty of all sorts of mischievous pranks, just as Tom Sawyer is in 
the book, but I never heard a coarse word from him in all our 
childhood acquaintance. 

"Hannibal was a httle town which hugged the steamboat 
landing in those days. If you will go down through the old part 
of the city now you will find it much as it was when I was a child, 
for the quaint old weatherbeaten buildings still stand, proving 
how thoroughly the pioneers did their work. We went to school, 
we had picnics, we explored the big cave — they call it the Mark _ 
Twain Cave now, you know." 



302 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

"Were you lost in the cave, as Tom Sawyer and Becky 
Thatcher were?" Mrs. Frazer was asked. 

"No; that is a part of the fiction of the book/' she answered. 
"As a matter of fact, some older persons always went with us. 
Usually my older sister and Sam Clemens's older sister, who were 
great friends, were along to see that we did n't get lost among 
the winding passages where our candles lighted up the great stal- 
agmites and stalactites, and where water was dripping from the 
stone roof overhead, just as Mr. Clemens has described it." 

And then she proceeded to divorce the memory of Mark Twain 
from "the little red schoolhouse" forever. 

"In those days we had only private schools," Mrs. Frazer said. 
"If there were pubHc schools I never heard of them. The first 
school I went to was taught by Mr. Cross, who had canvassed the 
town and obtained perhaps twenty-five private pupils at a stated 
price for the tuition of each. I do not know how much Mr. Cross 
charged, but when I was older I remember that a young woman 
teacher opened a school after getting twenty-five pupils at S25 
each for the year's tuition. I shall never forget that Mr. Cross 
did not belie his name, however, or that Sam Clemens wrote a bit 
of doggerel about him." 

She quoted it this way: 

Cross by name and Cross by nature, 
Cross hopped out of an Irish potato. 

"The schoolhouse was a 2-story frame building with a gallery 
across the entire front," she resumed. "After a year together in 
that school Sam and I went to the school taught by Mrs. Horr. 
It was then he used to write notes to me and bring apples to 
school and put them on my desk. And once, as a punishment 
for some prank, he had to sit with the girls and occupied a vacant 
seat by me. He did n't seem to mind the penalty at all," Mrs. 
Frazer added with another laugh, "so I don't know whether it 
was effective as a punishment or not. 

"We hadn't reached the dancing age then, but we went to 
many 'play parties' together and romped tlu-ough 'Going to 
Jerusalem,' 'King WilUam was King George's Son' and 'Green 
Grow the Rushes — 0.' 

"Judge Clemens, Sam's father, died and left the family m 
straitened circumstances, and Sam's schooling ended there. He 
began work in the printing office to help out, and when he was 17 
or 18 he left Hannibal to go to work in St. Louis. He never re- 



MARK TWAIN'S FIRST SWEETHEART 303 

turned to live, but he visited here often in the years that fol- 
lowed." 

Mrs. Frazer's own story formed the next chapter of her narra- 
tive. A young physician, Doctor Frazer of Madisonville, which 
was a little inland village in Ralls County, adjoining, came often 
to Hannibal and courted pretty Laura Hawkins. When she was 
20 they were married and went to live in the new house Doctor 
Frazer had built for his bride at Madisonville. There they reared 
two sons until they required better school facilities, when they 
went to Rensselaer, also in Ralls County, but nearer Hannibal. 
They lived in Rensselaer until Doctor Frazer's death, when the 
mother and younger son moved to the General Canby farm. 
This son's marriage led to Mrs. Frazer's return to Hannibal 
twenty-two years ago. She was offered the position of matron 
at the Home for the Friendless, and for twenty-two years she has 
managed it. The boys and girls who have gone out from it in 
nearly every case have become useful men and women as a result 
of her guidance at the critical period of their life, for the girls re- 
main in the home until they are 14 and the boys until they are 12. 
The old mansion which houses the score or more of children al- 
ways there is to be abandoned in the spring for a new and modern 
building, a gift from a wealthy citizen to the private charity 
which has conducted the institution so long without aid from city, 
county or state. 

It was given to Mrs. Frazer and Mark Twain to renew their 
youthful friendship after a lapse of half a century. In 1908 Mrs. 
Frazer made a trip East, accepting an invitation to visit Albert 
Bigelow Paine at Redding, Conn. Mr. Paine had visited Hanni- 
bal two years before in a search for material for his biography of 
Mark Twain and had made Mrs. Frazer's acquaintance then. 
He mentioned the approaching visit to the great humorist and 
Mark Twain promptly sat down and wrote Mrs. Frazer that she 
must be a guest also at Stormfleld, his Redding estate. So it 
came about that the one-time little Laura Hawkins found herself 
lifting the knocker at the beautiful country home of Mark Twain 
in the Connecticut hills. 

"The door was opened by Clara Clemens, Mr. Clemens's 
daughter," Mrs. Frazer said, "and she threw her arms about me 
and cried: 

"'I know you, for I've seen your picture, and father has told 
me about you. You are Becky Thatcher, and I'm happy to see. 
you.' 



S04 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

"And that," Mrs. Frazer said, "was the first time I really 
knew I was the original of the character, although I had sus- 
pected it for thirty years. Clara Clemens, you know, even then 
was a famous contralto, and Ossip Gabrilowitsch, whose wife she 
is now, was 'waiting^ on her at the time. 

" It was a wonderful visit," she went on. " Mr. Clemens took 
me over Stormfield. It must have been a tract of three hundred 
acres. We went through the fields, which were not fields at all, 
since they were not cultivated, and across a rustic bridge OA^er a 
little rushing brook which boiled and bubbled among the rocks in 
the bed of a great ravine, and we sat down under a rustic arbor 
and talked of the old days in Hannibal when he was a little boy 
and I a little girl, before he went out into the world to win fame 
and before I lived my own happy married life. Mr. Clemens had 
that rare faculty of loyalty to his friends which made the lapse of 
fifty years merely an interim. It was as if the half century had 
rolled away and we were there looking on the boy and girl we had 
been. 

"Mr. Clemens had won worldwide fame; he had been a wel- 
come guest in the palaces of Old World rulers and lionized in the 
great cities of his own country. He had been made a Doctor of 
Literature by the University of Oxford, the highest honor of the 
greatest university in the world, and yet there at Stormfield to 
me he seemed to be Sam Clemens of old Hannibal, rather than 
the foremost man in the American world of letters. 

"That, I believe, is my most treasured memory of Sam Clem- 
ens," Mrs. Frazer ended. "I love to think of him as the curly- 
headed, rollicking, clean minded little boy I played with as a 
child, but I like better stiU to think of him as he was in his last 
dajrs, when all that fame and fortune had showered on him did 
not, even momentarily, make him waver in his loyalty to the 
friends of his youth." 

In Hannibal stands the quaint little 2-story house flush with 
the sidewalk which Samuel Langhorne Clemens's father built in 
1844, after he had moved to the old river town from Florida, Mo., 
where the great story teller was born. Restored, it houses many 
reminders of the author and is maintained as a memorial to Mark 
Twain. There, November 30, the eighty-second anniversary of 
the birth of Clemens, the people of Hannibal and persons from 
many cities widely scattered over America will go to pay tribute 
to his memory. 
And there they will see Becky Thatcher in the flesh, silken- 



FOUR MEN HOLD WORLD DESTINY 305 

gowned, gray-haired and grown old, but Becky Thatcher just the 
same, seated in a chair which once was Mark Twain's and pour- 
ing tea at a table on which the author once wrote. And if the 
aroma of the cup she hands out to each visitor does n't waft be- 
fore his mind a vision of a curly-headed boy and a little girl with 
golden long-tails at play on the wharf of old Hannibal while the 
ancient packets ply up and down the rolling blue Mississippi, 
there is nothing whatever in the white magic of association. 



(Milwaukee Journal) 

FOUR MEN OF HUMBLE BIRTH HOLD WORLD 
DESTINY IN THEIR HANDS 

By WILLIAM G. SHEPHERD 

Washington — Out of a dingy law office in Virginia, out of a 
cobbler's shop in Wales, out of a village doctor's office in France 
and from a farm on the island of Sicily came the four men who, in 
the grand old palace at Versailles, will soon put the quietus on the 
divine right of kings. 

In 1856, three days after Christmas, a boy named Thomas was 
born in the plain home of a Presbyterian parson in Staunton, Va. 
When this boy was 4 years old, there was born in Palermo, on the 
island of Sicily, 4,000 miles away, a black-eyed Sicilian boy. Into 
the town of Palermo, on that July day, came Garibaldi, in tri- 
umph, and the farmer-folk parents of the boy, in honor of the oc- 
casion, named their son Victor, after the new Italian king, whom 
Garibaldi had helped to seat. 

Three years later still, when Thomas was playing the games of 
7-year-old boys down in Virginia, and when Victor, at 3, spent 
most of his time romping on the Httle farm in Sicily, there was 
born in the heart of the foggy, grimy town of Manchester, in 
England, a boy named David. His home was the ugliest of the 
homes of all the three. It was of red brick, two stories high, with 
small windows, facing a busy stone sidewalk. Its rooms were 
small and little adorned, and not much hope of greatness could 
ever have sprung from that dingy place. 

There was one other boy to make up the quartet. His name 
was George. He was a young medical student in Paris twenty- 
two years old when David was born in England. He thought 
all governments ought to be republics, and, by the time he was 



306 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

25, he came over to the United States to study the American re- 
public, and, if possible, to make a living over here as a doctor. 
He had been born in a little village in France, in a doctor's house- 
hold. 

While George was in New York, almost starving for lack of 
patients, and later, while he taught French in a girls' school in 
Stamford, Conn., little Thomas, down in Virginia, at the age of 
10 years, had buckled down to his studies, with the hope of being 
a lawyer; Victor, at 6, was studying in a school in far-away Pa- 
lermo, and David, at 3, fatherless by this time, was getting ready 
for life in the home of his uncle, a village shoemaker, in a little 
town of Wales. The only city-born boy of the four, he was taken 
by fate, when his father died, to the simplicity of village life and 
saved, perhaps, from the sidewalks. 

The years whirled on. George married an American girl and 
went back to France, to write and teach and doctor. Thomas 
went to a university to study law. David, seven years younger, 
spent his evenings and spare time in his uncle's shoe shop or in 
the village blacksmith shop, listening to his elders talk over the 
affairs of the world. 

Victor, with law as his vision, crossed the famous old straits of 
Messina from his island home and went to Naples to study in the 
law school there. 

In the '80s things began to happen. Down in Virginia, 
Thomas was admitted to the bar. In old Wales, David, who, by 
this time, had learned to speak English, was admitted to practice 
law in 1884, and, in 1885, the black-eyed, hot-blooded Sicilian 
Victor received the documents that entitled him to practice at 
the Italian bar. 

George, in France, by this time had dropped medicine. Bol- 
shevism had arisen there in the form of the Commune, and he 
had fought it so desperately that he had been sentenced to death. 
He hated kings, and he also hated the autocracy of the mob. He 
fled from Paris. 

Soon they will sit at a peace table together, the first peace table 
in all human history from which divine-right kings are barred. 
The future and the welfare of the world lie in their four pairs of 
hands. Their full names are: Georges Clemenceau, premier of 
France; David Lloyd George, prime minister of England; Victor 
Emanuel Orlando, premier of Italy, and Thomas Woodrow Wil- 
son, president of the United States. 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 307 

(Saturday Evening Post) 
Three half-tone reproductions of wash-drawings by a staff artist. 

THE CONFESSIONS OF A COLLEGE FROFES- 
SOR'S WIFE 

A COLLEGE professor — as may be proved by any number of 
novels and plays — is a quaint, pedantic person, with spectacles 
and a beard, but without any passions — except for books. He 
takes delight in large fat words, but is utterly indifferent to such 
things as clothes and women — except the dowdy one he married 
when too young to know better. ... It is always so interesting to 
see ourselves as authors see us. 

Even more entertaining to us, however, is the shockingly in- 
consistent attitude toward academic life maintained by practical 
people who know all about real life — meaning the making and 
spending of money. 

One evening soon after I became a college professor's wife I en- 
joyed the inestimable privilege of sitting next to one of America's 
safest and sanest business men at a dinner party given in his 
honor by one of the trustees of the university. 

When he began to inform me, with that interesting air of origi- 
nality which often accompanies the platitudes of our best citi- 
zens, that college professors were "mere visionary idealists — all 
academic theories; no practical knowledge of the world" — and 
so on, as usual — I made bold to interrupt: 

"Why, in the name of common sense, then, do you send your 
own sons to them to be prepared for it! Is such a policy safe? 
Is it sane? Is it practical?" And I am afraid I laughed in the 
great man's face. 

He only blinked and said "Humph!" in a thoroughly business- 
like manner; but throughout the rest of the evening he viewed me 
askance, as though I had become a dangerous theorist too — by 
marriage. So I turned my back on him and wondered why such 
a large and brilliant dinner was given for such a dull and uninter- 
esting Philistine! 

This shows, by the way, how young and ignorant I was. The 
mystery was explained next day, when it was intimated to me 
that I had made what is sometimes called, even in refined college 
circles, a break. Young professors' wives were not expected to 
trifle with visitors of such eminent solvency; but I had frequently 
heard the materialistic tendencies of the age condemned in pub- 



308 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

lie, and had not been warned in private that we were all supposed 
to do our best to work this materialist for a million, with which to 
keep up the fight against materialism. 

In the cloistered seclusion of our universities, dedicated to high 
ideals, more deference is shown to the masters of high finance 
than to the masters of other arts — let me add not because Mam- 
mon is worshiped, but because he is needed for building cloisters. 

The search for truth would be far more congenial than the 
search for wealth; but, so long as our old-fashioned institutions 
remain, like old-fashioned females, dependent for their very exist- 
ence on the bounty of personal favor, devious methods must be 
employed for coaxing and wheedling money out of those who con- 
trol it — and therefore the truth. 

I was a slender bride and had a fresh, becoming trousseau. He 
was a heavy-jowled banker and had many millions. I was sup- 
posed to ply what feminine arts I could command for the highly 
moral purpose of obtaining his dollars, to be used in destroying 
his ideals. 

Well, that was the first and last time I was ever so employed. 
Despite the conscientious flattery of the others he gruntingly re- 
fused to give a penny. And — who knows — perhaps I was in 
part responsible for the loss of a million! A dreadful preface to 
my career as a college professor's wife. 

However, before pursuing my personal confessions, I must not 
overlook the most common and comic characteristic of the col- 
lege professor we all know and love in fiction. I refer to his pic- 
turesque absent-mindedness. I had almost forgotten that; pos- 
sibly I have become absent-minded by marriage too! Is not the 
dear old fellow always absent-minded on the stage? Invariably 
and most deUciously! Just how he manages to remain on the 
Faculty when absent-minded is never explained on the program; 
and it often perplexes us who are behind the scenes. 

I tell my husband that, in our case, I, as the dowdy and de- 
voted wife, am supposed to interrupt his dreams — they always 
have dreams — remove his untidy dressing gown — they always 
wear dressing gowns — and dispatch him to the classroom with a 
kiss and a coat; but how about that great and growing proportion 
of his colleagues who, for reasons to be stated, are wifeless and 
presumably helpless.^ 

Being only a woman, I cannot explain how bachelors retain 
their positions; but I shall venture to assert that no business in 
the world — not even the army and navy — is conducted on a 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 309 

more ruthless and inexorable schedule than the business of teach- 
ing. 

My two brothers drift into their office at any time between nine 
and ten in the morning and yet control a fairly successful com- 
mercial enterprise; whereas, if my husband arrived at his eight- 
o'clock classroom only one minute late there would be no class 
there to teach. For it is an unwritten law among our engaging 
young friends the undergraduates that when the *'prof " is not on 
hand before the bell stops ringing they can " cut " — thus avoiding 
what they were sent to college for and achieving one of the pleas- 
antest triumphs of a university course. 

My confessions! Dear me! What have I, a college professor's 
wife, to confess? At least three things: 

1 — That I love my husband so well that I wish I had never 
married him. 

2 — That I have been such a good wife that he does not know 
he ought never to have had one. 

3 — That if I had to do it all over again I would do the same 
thing all over again! This is indeed a confession, though whether 
it be of weakness of will or strength of faith you may decide if you 
read the rest. 

The first time I saw the man who became my husband was at 
the Casino in Newport. And what was a poor professor doing at 
Newport? He was not a professor — he was a prince; a proud 
prince of the most royal realm of sport. Carl, as some of you 
might recall if that were his real name, had been the intercollegi- 
ate tennis champion a few years before, and now, with the kings 
of the court, had come to try his luck in the annual national 
tournament. He lasted until the finals this time and then was 
put out. That was as high as he ever got in the game. 

Alas for the romance of love at first sight! He paid not the 
slightest attention to me, though he sat beside me for ten min- 
utes; for, despite his defeat, he was as enthusiastically absorbed 
in the runner-up and the dashing defender of the title as — well, 
as the splendid sportsman I have since found him to be in disap- 
pointments far more grim. 

As for me, I fear I hardly noticed him either, except to remark 
that he was very good-looking; for this was my first visit to New- 
port — the last too — and the pageantry of wealth and fash- 
ion was bewilderingly interesting to me. I was quite young then. 
I am older now. But such unintellectual exhibitions might, I 



310 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

fancy, still interest me — a shocking confession for a college pro- 
fessor's wife! 

I did not see Carl again for two years, and then it was in an- 
other kind of pageant, amid pomp and circmnstance of such a 
different sort; and, instead of white flannel trousers, he now wore 
a black silk gown. It had large flowing sleeves and a hood of 
loud colors hanging down behind; and he was blandly marching 
along in the academic procession at the inaugural ceremonies of 
the new president of the university. 

I wonder why it is that when the stronger sex wishes to appear 
particularly dignified and impressive, as on the bench or in the 
pulpit, it likes to don female attire! No matter whether suffra- 
gists or antis — they all do it. Now some of these paraders 
seemed as embarrassed by their sldrts as the weaker sex would be 
without them; but the way Carl wore his new honors and his new 
doctor's hood attracted my attention and held it. He seemed 
quite aware of the ridiculous aspect of an awkward squad of 
pedagogues paraded like chorus girls before an audience invited 
to watch the display; but, also, he actually enjoyed the comedy 
of it — and that is a distinction when you are an actor in the 
comedy! His quietly derisive strut altogether fascinated me. 
''Hurrah! Are n't we fine! " he seemed to say. 

As the long, self-conscious procession passed where I sat, smil- 
ing and unnoticed, he suddenly looked up. His veiled twinkle 
happened to meet my gaze. It passed over me, instantly re- 
turned and rested on my ej^es for almost a second. Such a won- 
derful second for little me! . . . Not a gleam of recollection. He 
had quite forgotten that our names had once been pronounced to 
each other; but in that flashing instant he recognized, as I did, 
that we two knew each other better than anyone else in the whole 
assemblage. 

The nicest smile in the world said as plainly as words, and all 
for me alone: "Hurrah! You see it too!" Then, with that de- 
liciously derisive strut, he passed on, while something within me 
said: "There he is! — at last! He is the one for you!" And I 
glowed and was glad. 

Carl informed me afterward that he had a similar sensation, 
and that all through the long platitudinous exercises my face was 
a great solace to him. 

"WTienever they became particularly tiresome," he said, "I 
looked at you — and bore up." 

I was not unaware that he was observing me; nor was I sur- 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 311 

prised when, at the end of the exhausting ordeal, he broke through 
the crowd — with oh, such dear impetuosity! — and asked my 
uncle to present him, while I, trembling at his approach, looked 
in the other direction, for I felt the crimson in my cheeks — I who 
had been out three seasons! Then I turned and raised my eyes 
to his, and he, too, colored deeply as he took my hand. 

We saw no comedy in what followed. 

There was plenty of comedy, only we were too romantic to see 
it. At the time it seemed entirely tragic to me that my people, 
though of the sort classified as cultured and refined, deploring the 
materialistic tendency of the age, violently objected to my caring 
for this wonderful being, who brilliantly embodied all they ad- 
mired in baccalaureate sermons and extolled in Sunday-school. 

It was not despite but because of that very thing that they op- 
posed the match! If only he had not so ably curbed his material- 
istic tendencies they would have been delighted with this well- 
bred young man, for his was an even older family than ours, 
meaning one having money long enough to breed contempt for 
making it. Instead of a fortune, however, merely a tradition of 
noblesse oblige had come down to him, like an unwieldy heirloom. 
He had waved aside a promising opening in his cousin's bond- 
house on leaving college and invested five important years, as 
well as his small patrimony, in hard work at the leading universi- 
ties abroad in order to secure a thorough working capital for the 
worst-paid profession in the world. 

"If there were only some future in the teaching business!" as 
one of my elder brothers said; "but I've looked into the proposi- 
tion. Why, even a full professor seldom gets more than four 
thousand — in most cases less. And it will be years before your 
young man is a full professor." 

"I can wait," I said. 

"But a girl like you could never stand that kind of life. You 
are n't fitted for it. You were n't brought up to be a poor man's 
wife." 

"Plenty of time to learn while waiting," I returned gayly 
enough, but heartsick at the thought of the long wait. 

Carl, however, quite agreed with my brothers and wanted im- 
petuously to start afresh in pursuit of the career in Wall Street he 
had forsworn, willing and eager — the darling! — to throw away 
ambition, change his inherited tastes, abandon his cultivated tal- 
ents, and forget the five years he had "squandered in riotous 
learning," as he put it! 



312 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

However, I was not willing — for his sake. He would regret it 
later. They always do. Besides, like Carl, I had certain unut- 
tered ideals about serving the world in those days. We still have. 
Only now we better understand the world. Make no mistake 
about this. Men are just as noble as they used to be. Plenty 
of them are willing to sacrifice themselves — but not us. That is 
why so few of the sort most needed go in for teaching and preach- 
ing in these so-called materialistic days. 

What was the actual, material result of my lover's having taken 
seriously the advice ladled out to him by college presidents and 
other evil companions of his innocent j^outh, who had besought 
him not to seek material gain.^ 

At the time we found each other he was twenty-seven years of 
age and had just begun his career — an instructor in the econom- 
ics department, with a thousand-dollar salary. That is not why 
he was called an economist; but can you blame my brothers for 
doing their best to break the engagement? ... I do not — now. 
It was not their fault if Carl actually practiced what they merely 
preached. Should Carl be blamed? No; for he seriously in- 
tended never to marry at all — until he met me. Should I be 
blamed? Possibly; but I did my best to break the engagement 
too — and incidentally both our hearts — by going abroad and 
stajdng abroad until Carl — bless him! — came over after me. 

I am not blaming anybody. I am merely teUing why so few 
men in university work, or, for that matter, in most of the profes- 
sions nowadays, can support wives until after the natural mating 
time is past. By that time their true mates have usually wed 
other men — men who can support them — not the men they 
really love, but the men they tell themselves they love! For, if 
marriage is woman's only true career, it is hardly true to one's 
family or oneself not to follow it before it is too late — especially 
when denied training for any other — even though she may be 
equally lacking in practical training for the only career open to 
her. 

This sounds like a confession of personal failure due to the 
tjT)ical unpreparedness for marriage of the modern American 
girl. I do not think anyone could call our marriage a personal 
failure, though socially it may be. During the long period of our 
engagement I became almost as well prepared for my lifework as 
Carl was for his. Instead of just waiting in sweet, sighing idle- 
ness I took courses in domestic science, studied dietetics, mastered 
double-entry and learned to sew. I also began reading up on 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 313 

economics. The latter amused the family, for they thought the 
higher education of women quite unwomanly and had refused to 
let me go to college. 

It amused Carl too, until I convinced him that I was really in- 
terested in the subject, not just in him; then he began sending me 
boxes of books instead of boxes of candy, which made the family 
laugh and call me strong-minded. I did not care what they 
called me. I was too busy making up for the time and money 
wasted on my disadvantageous advantages, which may have 
made me more attractive to men, but had not fitted me to be the 
wife of any man, rich or poor. 

All that my accomplishments and those of my sisters actually 
accomplished, as I see it now, was to kill my dear father; for, 
though he made a large income as a lawyer, he had an even 
larger family and died a poor man, like so many prominent mem- 
bers of the bar. 

I shall not dwell on the ordeal of a long engagement. It is 
often made to sound romantic in fiction, but in reahstic life such 
an unnatural relationship is a refined atrocity — often an injuri- 
ous one — except to pseudo-human beings so unreal and unro- 
mantic that they should never be married or engaged at all. I 
nearly died; and as for Carl — well, unrequited affection may be 
good for some men, but requited affection in such circumstances 
cannot be good for any man — if you grant that marriage is! 

A high-strung, ambitious fellow like Carl needed no incentive 
to make him work hard or to keep him out of mischief, any more 
than he needed a prize to make him do his best at tennis or keep 
him from cheating in the score. What an ignoble view of these 
matters most good people accept! In point of fact he had been 
able to do more work and to play better tennis before receiving 
this long handicap — in short, would have been in a position to 
marry sooner if he had not been engaged to marry! This may 
sound strange, but that is merely because the truth is so seldom 
told about anything that concerns the most important relation- 
ship in life. 

Nevertheless, despite what he was pleased to call his inspira- 
tion, he won his assistant professorship at an earlier age than the 
average, and we were married on fifteen hundred a year. 

Oh, what a happy year! I am bound to say the family were 
very nice about it. Everyone was nice about it. And when we 
came back from our wedding journey the other professors' wives 
overwhehned me with kindness and with calls — and with teas 



314 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

and dinners and receptions in our honor. Carl had been a very 
popular bachelor and his friends were pleased to treat me quite as 
if I were worthy of him. This was generous, but disquieting. I 
was afraid they would soon see through me and pity poor Carl. 

I had supposed, like most outsiders, that the women of a univer- 
sity town would be dreadfully intellectual and modern — and I 
was rather in awe of them at first, being aware of my own mag- 
nificent limitations; but, for the most part, these charming new 
friends of mine, especially the wealthier members of the set I was 
thrown with, seemed guilelessly ignorant in respect of the inter- 
esting period of civilization in which they happened to live — al- 
most as ignorant as I was and as most "nice people" are every- 
where. 

Books sufficiently old, art sufficiently classic, views suffi- 
ciently venerable to be respectable — these interested them, as 
did foreign travel and modern languages; but ideas that were 
modern could not be nice because they were new, though they 
might be nice in time — after they became stale. College cul- 
ture, I soon discovered, does not care about what is happening to 
the world, but what used to happen to it. 

"You see, my dear," Carl explained, with that quiet, casual 
manner so puzzling to pious devotees of "cultureine" — and 
even to me at first, though I adored and soon adopted it! — 
"American universities don't lead thought — they follow it. In 
Europe institutions of learning may be — indeed, they fre- 
quently are — hotbeds of radicalism; in America our colleges are 
merely featherbeds for conservatism to die in respectably." 
Then he added: "But what could you expect? You see, we are 
still intellectually nouveaux over here, and therefore self-con- 
sciously correct and imitative, like the nouveaux riches. So long 
as you have a broad a you need never worry about a narrow 
mind." 

As for the men, I had pictured the privilege of sitting at their 
feet and learning many interesting things about the universe. 
Perhaps they were too tired to have their feet encumbered by ig- 
norant young women; for when I ventured to ask questions about 
their subject their answer was — not always — but in so many 
cases a solemn owllike "yes-and-no" that I soon learned my 
place. They did not expect or want a woman to know anything 
and preferred light banter and persiflage. I like that, too, when 
it is well done; but I was accustomed to men who did it better. 

I preferred the society of their wives. I do not expect any 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 315 

member of the complacent sex to believe this statement — un- 
less I add that the men did not fancy my society, which would 
not be strictly true; but, even if not so intellectual as I had feared, 
the women of our town were far more charming than I had hoped, 
and when you cannot have both cleverness and kindness the 
latter makes a more agreeable atmosphere for a permanent home. 
I still consider them the loveliest women in the world. 

In short my only regret about being married was that we had 
wasted so much of the glory of youth apart. Youth is the time 
for love, but not for marriage! Some of our friends among the 
instructors marry on a thousand a year, even in these days of the 
high cost of living; and I should have been so willing to live as 
certain of them do — renting lodgings from a respectable arti- 
san's wife and doing my own cooking on her stove after she had 
done hers. 

Carl gave me no encouragement, however! Perhaps it was 
just as well; for when first engaged I did not know how to cook, 
though I was a good dancer and could play Liszt's Polonaise in E 
flat with but few mistakes. 

As it turned out we began our wedded life quite luxuriously. 
We had a whole house to ourselves — and sometimes even a maid I 
In those days there were no flats in our town and certain small 
but shrewd local capitalists had built rows of tiny frame dwellings 
which they leased to assistant professors, assistant plumbers, and 
other respectable people of the same financial status, at rates 
which enabled them — the owners, not the tenants — to support 
charity and religion. 

They were all alike — I refer to the houses now, not to all land- 
lords necessarily — with a steep stoop in front and a drying yard 
for Monday mornings in the rear, the kind you see on the factory 
edges of great cities — except that ours were cleaner and were 
occupied by nicer people. 

One of our next-door neighbors was a rising young butcher 
with his bride and the house on the other side of us was occupied 
by a postman, his progeny, and the piercing notes of his whistle 
— presumably a cast-off one — on which all of his numerous 
children, irrespective of sex or age, were ambitiously learning 
their father's calling, as was made clear through the thin divid- 
ing wall, which supplied visual privacy but did not prevent our 
knowing when they took their baths or in what terms they ob- 
jected to doing so. It became a matter of interesting speculation 
to us what Willie would say the next Saturday night; and if we 



316 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

had quarreled they, in turn, could have — and would have — • 

told what it was all about. 

"Not every economist," Carl remarked whimsically, "can 
learn at first hand how the proletariat lives." 

I, too, was learning at first hand much about my own profes- 
sion. My original research in domestic science was sound in the- 
ory, but I soon discovered that my dietetic program was too ex- 
pensive in practice. Instead of good cuts of beef I had to select 
second or third quality from the rising young butcher, who, by 
the way, has since risen to the dignity of a touring car. Instead 
of poultry we had pork, for this was before pork also rose. 

My courses in bookkeeping, however, proved quite practical; 
and I may say that I was a good purchasing agent and general 
manager from the beginning of our partnership, instead of be- 
coming one later through bitter experience, like so many young 
wives brought up to be ladies, not general houseworkers. 

Frequently I had a maid, commonly called along our row the 
"gurrul" — and quite frequently I had none; for we could afford 
only young beginners, who, as soon as I had trained them well, 
left me for other mistresses who could afford to pay them well. 

"Oh, we should not accuse the poor creatures of ingratitude," 
I told Carl one day. "Not every economist can learn at first 
hand the law of supply and demand." 

If, however, as my fashionable aunt in town remarked, we 
were picturesquely impecunious — which, to that soft lady, prob- 
ably meant that we had to worry along without motor cars 
— we were just as desperately happy as we were poor; for we had 
each other at least. Every other deprivation seemed compara- 
tively easy or amusing. 

Nor were we the only ones who had each other — and there- 
fore poverty. Scholarship meant sacrifice, but all agreed that it 
was the ideal life. 

To be sure, some members of the Faculty — or their wives — 
had independent means and could better afford the ideal life. 
They were considered noble for choosing it. Some of the alumni 
who attended the great games and the graduating exercises were 
enormously wealthy, and gave the interest of their incomes — 
sometimes a whole handful of bonds at a time — to the support 
of the ideal life. 

Was there any law compelling them to give their money to 
their Alma Mater? No — just as there was none compelling 
men like Carl to give their lives and sacrifice their wives. These 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 817 

men of wealth made even greater sacrifices. They could have 
kept in comfort a dozen wives apiece — modest ones — on what 
they voluntarily preferred to turn over to the dear old college. 
Professors, being impractical and visionary, cannot always see 
these things in their true proportions. 

We, moreover, in return for our interest in education, did we 
not shamelessly accept monthly checks from, the university 
treasurer's office? It was quite materialistic in us. Whereas 
these disinterested donors, instead of receiving checks, gave 
them, which is more blessed. And were they not checks of a de- 
nomination far larger than those we selfishly cashed for our- 
selves? Invariably. Therefore our princely benefactors were 
regarded not only as nobler but as the Nobility. 

Indeed, the social stratification of my new home, where the ex- 
cellent principles of high thinking and plain living were highly 
recommended for all who could not reverse the precept, struck 
me, a neophyte, as for all the world like that of a cathedral town 
in England, except that these visiting patrons of religion and 
learning were treated with a reverence and respect found only in 
America. Surely it must have amused them, had they not been 
so used to it; for they were quite the simplest, kindest, sweetest 
overrich people I had ever met in my own country — and they 
often took pains to tell us broad-mindedly that there were better 
things than money. Their tactful attempts to hide their awful 
affluence were quite appealing — occasionally rather comic. 
Like similarly conscious efforts to cover evident indigence, it was 
so palpable and so unnecessary. 

"There, there!" I always wanted to say — until I, too, be- 
came accustomed to it. "It's all right. You can't help it." 

It was dear of them all the same, however, and I would not 
seem ungrateful for their kind consideration. After all, how dif- 
ferent from the purse-proud arrogance of wealth seen in our best 
— selling — fiction, though seldom elsewhere. 

For the most part they were true gentlefolk, with the low 
voices and simple manners of several generations of breeding; 
and I liked them, for the most part, very much — especially cer- 
tain old friends of our parents, who, I learned later, were willing 
to show their true friendship in more ways than Carl and I could 
permit. 

One is frequently informed that the great compensation for 
underpaying the college professor is in the leisure to live — otium 
cum dignitate as returning old grads call it when they can remem- 



318 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

ber their Latin, though as most of them cannot they call it a 
snap. 

Carl, by the way, happened to be the secretary of his class, and 
his popularity with dear old classmates became a nuisance in our 
tiny home. I remember one well-known bachelor of arts who 
answered to the name of Spud, a rather vulgar little man. Com- 
fortably seated in Carl's study one morning, with a cigar in his 
mouth, Spud began: 

"My, what a snap! A couple of hours' work a day and three 
solid months' vacation! Why, just see, here you are loafing 
early in the morning! You ought to come up to the city! 
Humph ! I'd show you what real work means . ' ' 

Now my husband had been writing until two o'clock the night 
before, so that he had not yet made preparation for his next hour. 
It was so early indeed that I had not yet made the beds. Be- 
sides, I had heard all about our snap before and it was getting on 
my nerves. 

"Carl would enjoy nothing better than seeing you work," I put 
in when the dear classmate finished; "but unfortunately he can- 
not spare the time." 

Spud saw the point and left; but Carl, instead of giving me the 
thanks I deserved, gave me the first scolding of our married life! 
Now is n't that just like a husband? 

Of course it can be proved by the annual catalogue that the 
average member of the Faculty has only about twelve or four- 
teen hours of classroom work a week — the worst-paid instructor 
more ; the highest-paid professor less. What a university teacher 
gives to his students in the classroom, however, is or ought to be 
but a rendering of what he acquires outside, as when my dis- 
tinguished father tried one of his well-prepared cases in court. 
Every new class, moreover, is a different proposition, as I once 
heard my brother say of his customers. 

That is where the art of teaching comes in and where Carl ex- 
celled. He could make even the "dismal science," as Carlyle 
called economics, interesting, as was proved by the large numbers 
of men who elected his courses, despite the fact that he made 
them work hard to pass. Nor does this take into account origi- 
nal research and the writing of books like Carl's scholarly work 
on The History of Property, on which he had been slaving for 
three solid summers and hundreds of nights during termtime; not 
to speak of attending committee meetings constantly, and thcj 
furnace even more constantly. The latter, like making beds, is 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 3X9 

not mentioned in the official catalogue. I suppose such details 
would not become one's dignity. 

As in every other occupation, some members of the Faculty do 
as little work as the law requires; but most of them are an ex- 
tremely busy lot, even though they may, when it suits their sched- 
ule better, take exercise in the morning instead of the afternoon 
— an astonishing state of affairs that always scandalizes the so- 
called tired business man. 

As for Carl, I was seeing so little of him except at mealtimes 
that I became rather piqued at first, being a bride. I felt sure he 
did not love me any more! 

" Do you really think you have a right to devote so much time 
to outside work?" I asked one evening when I was washing the 
dishes and he was starting off for the university library to write 
on his great book. — It was the indirect womanly method of say- 
ing: "Oh, please devote just a little more time to me!" — "You 
ought to rest and be fresh for your classroom work," I added. 
Being a man he did not see it. 

"The way to advance in the teaching profession," he answered, 
with his veiled twinkle, "is to neglect it. It does n't matter how 
poorly you teach, so long as you write dull books for other pro- 
fessors to read. That's why it is called scholarship — because 
you slight your scholars." 

"Oh, I'm sick of all this talk about scholarship!" I cried. 
"What does it mean anjrway?" 

"Scholarship, my dear," said Carl, "means finding out all 
there is to know about something nobody else cares about, and 
then telling it in such a way that nobody else can find out. If 
you are understood you are popular; if you are popular you are 
no scholar. And if you're no scholar, how can you become a full 
professor? Now, my child, it is all clear to you." 

And, dismissing me and the subject with a good-night kiss, he 
brushed his last year's hat and hurried off, taking the latchkey. 
So much for otium. 

"But where does the dignity come in?" I asked Carl one day 
when he was sharpening his lawnmower and thus neglecting Ids 
lawn tennis; for, like a Freshman, I still had much to learn about 
quaint old college customs. 

"Why, in being called p'fessor by the tradesmen," said Carl. 
"Also in renting a doctor's hood for academic pee-rades at three 
dollars a pee-rade, instead of buying a new hat for the rest of the 
year. Great thing — dignity!" 



320 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

He chuckled and began to cut the grass furiously, reminding 
me of a thoroughbred hunter I once saw harnessed to a plow. 

"P'fessors of pugilism and dancing," he went on gravely, 
"have n't a bit more dignity than we have. They merely have 
more money. Just think! There is n't a butcher or grocer in 
this town who does n't doff his hat to me when he whizzes by in 
his motor — even those whose bills I have n't paid. It's great to 
have dignity. I don't believe there's another place in the world 
where he who rides makes obeisance to him who walks. Much 
better than getting as high wages as a trustee's chauffeur! A 
salary is so much more dignified than wages." 

He stopped to mop his brow, looking perfectly dignified. 

"And yet," he added, egged on by my laughter, for I always 
loved his quiet irony — it was never directed at individuals, but 
at the ideas and traditions they blandly and blindly followed — 
"And yet carping critics of the greatest nation on earth try to 
make out that art and intellectuality are not properly recognized 
in the States. Pessimists! Look at our picture galleries, filled 
with old masters from abroad! Think how that helps American 
artists! Look at our colleges, crowded with buildings more 
costly than Oxford's! Think how that encourages American 
teachers! Simply because an occasional foreign professor gets 
higher pay — bah! There are better things than money. For 
example, this!" 

And he bent to his mower again, with much the same deri- 
sively dignified strut as on that memorable day long ago when I 
came and saw and was conquered by it — only then he wore 
black silk sleeves and now white shirtsleeves. 

And so much for dignity. 

I soon saw that if I were to be a help and not a hindrance to the 
man I loved I should have to depart from what I had been care- 
fully trained to regard as woman's only true sphere. Do not be 
alarmed! I had no thought of lea^ang home or husband. It is 
simply that the home, in the industrial sense, is leaving the house 

— seventy-five per cent of it social scientists say, has gone already 

— so that nowadays a wife must go out after it or else find some 
new-fashioned productive substitute if she really intends to be an 
old-fashioned helpmate to her husband. 

It was not a feminist theory but a financial condition that con- 
fronted us. My done-over trousseau would not last forever, nor 
would Carl's present intellectual wardrobe, which was becoming 
threadbare. Travel abroad and foreign study are just as neces- 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 321 

sary for an American scholar as foreign buying is for an American 
dealer in trousseaus. 

I thought of many plans; but in a college town a woman's op- 
portunities are so limited. We are not paid enough to be ladies, 
though we are required to dress and act like them — do not for- 
get that point. And yet, when willing to stop being a lady, what 
could one do? 

Finally I thought of dropping entirely out of the social, reli- 
gious and charitable activities of the town, investing in a type- 
writer and subscribing to a correspondence-school course in ste- 
nography. I could at least help Carl prepare his lectures and 
relieve him of the burden of letter writing, thus giving him more 
time for book reviewing and other potboiling jobs, which were 
not only delaying his own book but making him burn the candle 
at both ends in the strenuous effort to make both ends meet. 

I knew Carl would object, but I had not expected such an out- 
burst of profane rage as followed my announcement. The poor 
boy was dreadfully tired, and for months, like the thoroughbred 
he was, he had repressed his true feeUngs under a quiet, quizzical 
smile. 

" My heavens! What next? " he cried, jumping up and pacing 
the floor. "Have n't you already given up everything you were 
accustomed to — every innocent pleasure you deserve — every 
wholesome diversion you actually need in this God-forsaken, 
monotonous hole? Haven't I already dragged you down — 
you, a lovely, fine-grained, highly evolved woman — down to the 
position of a servant in my house? And now, on top of all this — 
No, by God! I won't have it! I tell you I won't have it!" 

It may be a shocking confession, but I loved him for that 
wicked oath. He looked so splendid — all fire and furious de- 
termination, as when he used to rush up to the net in the deciding 
game of a tennis match, cool and quick as lightning. 

"You are right, Carl dear," I said, kissing his profane lips; for 
I had learned long since never to argue with him. "I am too 
good to be a mere household drudge. It's an economic waste of 
superior ability. That 's why I am going to be your secretary and 
save you time and money enough to get and keep a competent 
maid." 

"But I tell you—" 

"I know, dear; but what are we going to do about it? We 
can't go on this way. They've got us down — are we going to 
let them keep us down? Look into the future! Look at poor old 



322 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Professor Culberson. Look at half of the older members of the 
Faculty! They have ceased to grow; their usefulness is over; 
they are all gone to seed — because they had n't the courage or 
the cash to develop anything but their characters!" 

Carl looked thoughtful. He had gained an idea for his book 
and, like a true scholar, forgot for the moment our personal situ- 
ation. 

''Really, you know," he mused, "does it pay Society to reward 
its individuals in inverse ratio to their usefulness?" He took out 
his pocket notebook and wrote: "Society itself suffers for reward- 
ing that low order of cunning called business sense with the ulti- 
mate control of all other useful talents." He closed his notebook 
and smiled. 

"And yet they call the present economic order safe and sane! 
And all of us who throw the searchUght of truth on it — danger- 
ous theorists ! Can you beat it .?* " 

"Well," I rejoined, not being a scholar, "there's nothing dan- 
gerous about my theory. Instead of your stenographer becom- 
ing your wife, your wife becomes your stenographer — far safer 
and saner than the usual order. Men are much more apt to fall 
in love with lively little typewriters than with fat, flabby wives." 

Though it was merely to make a poor joke out of a not objec- 
tionable necessity, my plan, as it turned out, was far wiser than 
I realized. 

First, I surreptitiously card-catalogued the notes and refer- 
ences for Carl's "epoch-making book," as one of the sweet, vague 
wives of the Faculty always called her husband's volumes, which 
she never read. Then I learned to take down his lectures, to look 
up data in the library, to verify quotations, and even lent a hand 
in the book reviewing. 

Soon I began to feel more than a mere consumer's interest — a 
producer's interest — in Carl's work. And then a wonderful 
thing happened: My husband began to see ~ just in time, I be- 
lieve — that a wife could be more than a passive and more or 
less desirable appendage to a man's life — an active and intelli- 
gent partner in it. And he looked at me with a new and wonder- 
ing respect, which was rather amusing, but very dear. 

He had made the astonishing discovery that his wife had a 
mind! 

Years of piano practice had helped to make my fingers nimble 
for the typewriter, and for this advantage I was duly grateful to 
the family's old-fashioned ideals, though I fear they did not ap- 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 323 

predate my gratitude. Once, when visiting them during the 
holidays, I was laughingly boasting, before some guests invited 
to meet me at luncheon, about my part in the writing of Carl's 
History of Property, which had been dedicated to me and was 
now making a sensation in the economic world, though our guests 
in the social world had never heard of it. 

Suddenly I saw a curious, uncomfortable look come over the 
faces of the family. Then I stopped and remembered that nowa- 
days wives — nice wives, that is — are not supposed to be help- 
mates to their husbands except in name; quite as spinsters no 
longer spin. They can help him spend. At that they are truly 
better halves, but to help him earn is not nice. To our guests it 
could mean only one thing — namely, that my husband could 
not afford a secretary. Well, he could not. What of it? 

For a moment I had the disquieting sensation of having pa- 
raded my poverty — a form of vulgarity that Carl and I detest 
as heartily as a display of wealth. 

The family considerately informed me afterward, however, 
that they thought me brave to sacrifice myself so cheerfully. 
Dear me! I was not being brave. I was not being cheerful. I 
was being happy. There is no sacrifice in working for the man 
you love. And if you can do it with him — why, I conceitedly 
thought it quite a distinction. Few women have the ability or 
enterprise to attain it! 

One of my sisters who, like me, had failed to "marry well" 
valeted for her husband; but somehow that seemed to be all 
right. For my part I never could see why it is more womanly to 
do menial work for a man than intellectual work with him. I 
have done both and ought to know. . . . Can it be merely be- 
cause the one is done strictly in the home or because no one can 
see you do it? Or is it merely because it is unskilled labor? 

It is all right for the superior sex to do skilled labor, but a true 
womanly woman must do only unskilled labor, and a fine lady 
none at all — so clothed as to prevent it and so displayed as to 
prove it, thus advertising to the world that the man who pays for 
her can also pay for secretaries and all sorts of expensive things. 
Is that the old idea? 

If so I am afraid most college professors' wives should give up 
the old-fashioned expensive pose of ladyhood and join the new 
womanhood! 

Well, as it turned out, we were enabled to spend our sabbatical 
year abroad — just in time to give Carl a new lease of life men- 



324 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

tally and me physically; for both of us were on the verge of break- 
ing down before we left. 

Such a wonderful year! Revisiting his old haunts; attending 
lectures together in the German and French universities; work- 
ing side by side in the great libraries; and meeting the great men 
of his profession at dinner! Then, between whiles, we had the 
best art and music thrown in! Ah, those are the only real luxu- 
ries we miss and long for! Indeed, to us, they are not really luxu- 
ries. Beauty is a necessity to some persons, like exercise; though 
others can get along perfectly well without it and, therefore, won- 
der why we cannot too. 

Carl's book had already been discovered over there — that is 
perhaps the only reason it was discovered later over here — and 
every one was so kind about it. We felt quite important and 
used to wink at each other across the table. *'Our" book, Carl 
always called it, like a dear. His work was my work now — his 
ambitions, my ambitions; not just emotionally or inspirationally, 
but intellectually, collaboratively. And that made our emotional 
interest in each other the keener and more satisfying. We had 
fallen completely in love with each other. For the first time we 
two were really one. Previously we had been merely pronounced 
so by a clergyman who read it out of a book. 

Oh, the glory of loving some one more than oneself! And oh, 
the blessedness of toiling together for something greater and more 
important than either! That is what makes it possible for the 
other thing to endure — not merely for a few mad, glad years, 
followed by drab duty and dull regret, but for a happy lifetime of 
useful vigor. That, and not leisure or dignity, is the great com- 
pensation for the professorial life. 

What a joy it was to me during that rosy-sweet early period of 
our union to watch Carl, like a proud mother, as he grew and ex- 
foliated — like a plant that has been kept in a cellar and now in 
congenial soil and sunshine is showing at last its full potentialities. 
Through me my boy was attaining the full stature of a man; and 
I, his proud mate, was jealously glad that even his dear dead 
mother could not have brought that to pass. 

His wit became less caustic; his manner more genial. People 
who once irritated now interested him. Some who used to fear 
him now liked him. And as for the undergraduates who had 
hero-worshiped this former tennis champion, they now shyly 
turned to him for counsel and advice. He was more of a man of 
the world than most of his colleagues and treated the boys as 



CONFESSIONS OF A PROFESSOR'S WIFE 325 

though they were men of the world too — for instance, he never 
referred to them as boys. 

"I would n't be a damned fool if I were you/' I once overheard 
him say to a certain young man who was suffering from an attack 
of what Carl called misdirected energy. 

More than one he took in hand this way; and, though I used to 
call it — to tease him — his man-to-man manner, I saw that it 
was effective. I, too, grew fond of these frank, ingenuous youths. 
We used to have them at our house when we could spare an even- 
ing — often when we could not. 

None of this work, it may be mentioned, is referred to in the 
annual catalogue or provided for in the annual budget; and yet it 
is often the most vital and lasting service a teacher renders his 
students — especially when their silly parents provide them with 
more pocket money than the professor's entire income for the 
support of himself, his family, his scholarship and his dignity. 

"Your husband is not a professor," one of them confided shyly 
to me — ''he's a human being!" 

After the success of our book we were called to another college 

— a full professorship at three thousand a year! Carl loved his 
Alma Mater with a passion I sometimes failed to understand; but 
he could not afford to remain faithful to her forever on vague 
promises of future favor. He went to the president and said so 
plainly, hating the indignity of it and loathing the whole system 
that made such methods necessary. 

The president would gladly have raised all the salaries if he had 
had the means. He could not meet the competitor's price, but 
he begged Carl to stay, offering the full title — meaning empty 

— of professor and a minimum wage of twenty-five hundred dol- 
lars, with the promise of full pay when the funds could be raised. 

Now we had demonstrated that, even on the Faculty of an 
Eastern college, two persons could live on fifteen hundred. 
Therefore, with twenty-five hundred, we could not only exist but 
work efiiciently. So we did not have to go. 

I look back on those days as the happiest period of our life to- 
gether. That is why I have lingered over them. Congenial 
work, bright prospects, perfect health, the affection of friends, 
the respect of rivals — what more could any woman want for her 
husband or herself? 

Only one thing. And now that, too, was to be ours! However, 
with children came trouble, for which — bless their little hearts! 



826 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

— they are not responsible. Were we? I wonder! Had we a 
right to have children? Had we a right not to have children? 
It has been estimated by a member of the mathematical depart- 
ment that, at the present salary rate, each of the college profes- 
sors of America is entitled to just two-fifths of a child. 

Does this pay? Should only the financially fit be allowed to 
survive — to reproduce their species? Should or should not 
those who may be fittest physically, intellectually and morally 
also be entitled to the privilege and responsibility of taking their 
natural part in determining the character of America's future 
generations, for the evolution of the race and the glory of God? 

I wonder! 

(Boston Transcript) 

A PARADISE FOR A PENNY 

Maddened by the Catalogues of Peace-Time, One 

Lover of Gardens Yet Managed to Build a 

Little Eden, and Tells How He Did It for a 

Song 

By WALTER PRICHARD EATON 

War-time economy (which is a much pleasanter and doubtless 
a more patriotically approved phrase than war-time poverty) is 
not without its compensations, even to the gardener. At first I 
did not think so. Confronted by a vast array of new and empty 
borders and rock steps and natural-laid stone, flanking a wall 
fountain, and other features of a new garden ambitiously planned 
before the President was so inconsiderate as to declare war with- 
out consulting me, and confronted, too, by an empty purse — 
pardon me, I mean by the voluntarily imposed necessity for 
economy — I sat me down amid my catalogues, like Niobe amid 
her children, and wept. (Maybe it was n't amid her children 
Niobe wept, but for them; anyhow I remember her as a symbol of 
lachrjrmosity.) Dear, alluring, immoral catalogues, sweet sirens 
for a man's undoing! How you sang to me of sedums, and whis- 
pered of peonies and irises — yea, even of German irises! How 
you spoke in soft, seductive accents of wonderful lilacs, and 
exquisite spireas, and sweet syringas, murmurous with bees! 
How you told of tulips and narcissuses, and a thousand lovely 
things for beds and borders and rock work — at so much a dozen, 



A PARADISE FOR A PENNY 327 

so very much a dozen, and a dozen so very few! I did not resort 
to cotton in my ears, but to tears and profanity. 

Then two things happened. I got a letter from a Boston archi- 
tect who had passed by and seen my unfinished place; and I took 
a walk up a back road where the Massachusetts Highway Com- 
missioners had n't sent a gang of workmen through to "improve " 
it. The architect said, "Keep your place simple. It cries for it. 
That's always the hardest thing to do — but the best." And 
the back-country roadside said, "Look at me; I didn't come 
from any catalogue; no nursery grew me; I'm really and truly 
'perfectly hardy'; I did n't cost a cent — and can you beat me at 
any price? I 'm a hundred per cent American, too." 

I looked, and I admitted, with a blush of shame for ever doubt- 
ing, that I certainly could not beat it. But, I suddenly realized, 
I could steal it! 

I have been stealing it ever since, and having an enormously 
enjoyable time in the bargain. 

Of course, stealing is a relative term, like anything else con- 
nected with morality. What would be stealing in the inomediate 
neighborhood of a city is not even what the old South County 
oyster fisherman once described as "jest pilferin' 'round," out 
here on the edges of the wilderness. I go out with the trailer 
hitched to the back of my Ford, half a mile in any direction, and 
I pass roadsides where, if there are any farmer owners of the 
fields on the other side of the fence, these owners are only too 
glad to have a few of the massed, invading plants or bushes 
thinned out. But far more often there is not even a fence, or if 
there is, it has heavy woods or a swamp or a wild pasture beyond 
it. I could go after plants every day for six months and nobody 
would ever detect where I took them. My only rule — self-im- 
posed — is never to take a single specimen, or even one of a small 
group, and always to take where thinning is useful, and where 
the land or the roadside is wild and neglected, and no human be- 
ing can possibly be injured. Most often, indeed, I simply go up 
the mountain along, or into, my own woods. 

I am not going to attempt any botanical or cultural description 
of what I am now attempting. That will have to wait, anyhow, 
till I know a little more about it myself! But I want to indicate, 
in a general way, some of the effects which are perfectly possible, 
I believe, here in a Massachusetts garden, without importing a 
single plant, or even sowing a seed or purchasing any stock from 
a nursery. 



S28 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Take the matter of asters, for instance. Hitherto my garden, 
up here in the mountains where the frosts come early and we can- 
not have anemone, japonica, or chrysanthemums, has generally 
been a melancholy spectacle after the middle of September. Yet 
it is just at this time that our roadsides and woodland borders are 
the most beautiful. The answer is n't alone asters, but very 
largely. And nothing, I have discovered, is much easier to trans- 
plant than a New England aster, the showiest of the family. 
Within the confines of my own farm or its bordering woods are at 
least seven varieties of asters, and there are more within half a 
mile. They range in color from the deepest purple and lilac, 
through shades of blue, to white, and vary in height from the six 
feet my New Englands have attained in rich garden soil, to one 
foot. Moreover, by a little. care, they can be so massed and al- 
ternated in a long border (such a border I have), as to pass in un- 
der heavy shade and out again into full sun, from a damp place to 
a dry place, and yet all be blooming at their best. With what 
other flower can you do that.'* And what other flower, at what- 
ever price per dozen, will give you such abundance of beauty 
without a fear of frosts .^^ I recently dug up a load of asters in 
bud, on a rainy day, and aheady they are in full bloom in their 
new garden places, without so much as a wilted leaf. 

Adjoining my farm is an abandoned marble quarry. In that 
quarry, or, rather, in the rank grass bordering it, grow thousands 
of Solidago rigida, the big, flat-topped goldenrod. This is the 
only station for it in Berkshire County. As the ledges from this 
quarry come over into my pastures, and doubtless the goldenrod 
would have come too, had it not been for the sheep, what could 
be more fitting than for me to make this glorious yellow flower a 
part of my garden scheme.^ Surely if anything belongs in my 
peculiar soil and landscape it does. It transplants easily, and 
under cultivation reaches a large size and holds its bloom a long 
time. Massed with the asters it is superb, and I get it by going 
through the bars with a shovel and a wheelbarrow. 

But a garden of goldenrod and asters would be somewhat dull 
from May to mid-August, and somewhat monotonous thereafter. 
I have no intention, of course, of barring out from my garden the 
stock perennials, and, indeed, I have already salvaged from my 
old place or grown from seed the indispensable phloxes, foxgloves, 
larkspur, hollyhocks, sweet william, climbing roses, platycodons 
and the like. But let me merely mention a few of the wild 
things I have brought in from the immediate neighborhood, and 



A PARADISE FOR A PENNY 329 

see if they do not promise, when naturally planted where the 
borders wind under trees, or grouped to the grass in front of as- 
ters, ferns, goldenrod and the shrubs I shall mention later, a kind 
of beauty and interest not to be secured by the usual garden 
methods. 

There are painted trilliums, yellow and pink lady's slippers, 
Orchis spectabilis, hepaticas, bloodroot, violets, jack-in-the-pul- 
pit, masses of baneberries, Solomon's seal, true and false; smooth 
false foxglove, five-flowered and closed gentians, meadow lilies 
(Canadensis) and wood lilies (Philadelphicum), the former es- 
pecially being here so common that I can go out and dig up the 
bulbs by the score, taking only one or two from any one spot. 
These are but a few of the flowers, blooming from early spring to 
late fall, in the borders, and I have forgotten to mention the little 
bunch berries from my own woods as an edging plant. 

Let me turn now for a moment to the hedge and shrubbery 
screen which must intervene between my west border and the 
highway, and which is the crux of the garden. The hedge is al- 
ready started with hemlocks from the mountain side, put in last 
spring. I must admit nursery in-grown evergreens are easier to 
handle, and make a better and quicker growth. But I am out 
now to see how far I can get with absolutely native material. 
Between the hedge and the border, where at first I dreamed of li- 
lacs and the like, I now visualize as filling up with the kind of 
growth which lines our roads, and which is no less beautiful and 
much more fitting. From my own woods will come in spring 
(the only safe time to move them) masses of mountain laurel and 
azalea. From my own pasture fence-line will come red osier, 
dogwood, with its white blooms, its blue berries, its winter stem- 
coloring, and elderberry. From my own woods have already 
come several four-foot maple-leaved vibermuns, which, though 
moved in June, throve and have made a fine new growth. There 
will be, also, a shadbush or two and certainly some hobble bushes, 
with here and there a young pine and small, slender canoe 
birch. Here and there will be a clump of flowering raspberry. I 
shall not scorn spireas, and I must have at least one big white 
syringa to scent the twilight; but the great mass of my screen will 
be exactly what nature would plant there if she were left alone — 
minus the choke cherries. You always have to exercise a little su- 
pervision over nature! 

A feature of my garden is to be rock work and a little, thin 
stream of a brooklet flowing away from a wall fountain. I read 



330 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

in my catalogues of marvellous Alpine plants, and I dreamed of 
irises by my brook. I shall have some of both too. Why not? 
The war has got to end one of these days. But meanwhile, why 
be too down-hearted? On the cliffs above my pasture are masses 
of moss, holding, as a pincushion holds a breastpin, little early 
saxifrage plants. From the crannies frail hair bells dangle forth. 
There are clumps of purple cliffbrase and other tiny, exquisite 
ferns. On a gravel bank beside the State road are thousands of 
viper's bugloss plants; on a ledge nearby is an entire nursery of 
Sedum acre (the small yellow stone crop). Columbines grow like 
a weed in my mowing, and so do Quaker ladies, which, in Eng- 
land, are highly esteemed in the rock garden. The Greens Com- 
mittee at the nearby goK club will certainly let me dig up some 
of the gay pinks which are a pest in one of the high, gravelly 
bunkers. And these arc only a fraction of the native material 
available for my rock work and bank. Many of them are already 
in and thriving. 

As for the little brook, any pond edge or brookside nearby has 
arrowheads, forget-me-nots, cardinal flowers, blue flag, clumps of 
beautiful grasses, monkey flowers, jewel-weed and the like. There 
are cowslips, too, and blue vervain, and white violets. If I want 
a clump of something tall, Joe-pye-weed is not to be disdained. 
No, I do not anticipate any trouble about my brookside. It will 
not look at all as I thought a year ago it was going to look. It 
will not look like an illustration in some "garden beautiful" 
magazine. It will look like — like a brook! I am tremendously 
excited now at the prospect of seeing it look like a brook, a little, 
lazy, trickling Yankee brook. If I ever let it look like anything 
else, I believe I shall deserve to have my spring dry up. 

Probably I shall have moments of, for me, comparative afflu- 
ence in the years to come, when I shall once more listen to the 
siren song of catalogues, and order Japanese irises, Darwin tulips, 
hybrid lilacs, and so on. But by that time, I feel sure, my native 
plants and shrubs will have got such a start, and made such a 
luxuriant, natural tangle, that they will assimilate the aliens and 
teach them their proper place in a New England garden. At 
any rate, till the war is over, I am 100 per cent Berkshire County I 



WANTED: A HOME ASSISTANT 831 

(Pictorial Review) 

One illustration made by a staff artist, with the caption, " The New 
Home Assistant is Trained for Her Work." 

WANTED: A HOME ASSISTANT 

Business Hours and Wages Are Helping Women 
to Solve the Servant Problem 

By LOUISE F. NELLIS 

Wanted: A Home Assistant — Eight hours a day; six days a 
week. Sleep and eat at home. Pay, twelve dollars a week. 

Whenever this notice appears in the Help Wanted column of 
a city newspaper, fifty to one hundred answers are received in the 
first twenty-four hours! 

"Why," we hear some one say, "that seems impossible! When 
I advertised for a maid at forty dollars a month with board and 
lodging provided, not a soul answered. Why are so many re- 
sponses received to the other advertisement?" 

Let us look more closely at the first notice. 

Wanted: A Home Assistant! How pleasant and dignified it 
sounds; nothing about a general houseworker or maid or servant, 
just Home Assistant! We can almost draw a picture of the 
kind of young woman who might be called by such a title. She 
comes, quiet, dignified, and interested in our home and its prob- 
lems. She may have been in an office but has never really liked 
office work and has always longed for home surroundings and 
home duties. 

I remember one case I was told of — a little stenographer. 
She had gladly assumed her new duties as Home Assistant, and 
had wept on the first Christmas Day with the family because it 
was the only Christmas she had spent in years in a home atmos- 
phere. Or perhaps the applicant for the new kind of work in the 
home may have been employed in a department store and found 
the continuous standing on her feet too wearing. She welcomes 
the frequent change of occupation in her new position. Or she 
may be married with a little home of her own, but with the desire 
to add to the family income. We call these Home Assistants, 
Miss Smith or Mrs. Jones, and they preserve their own individu- 
ality and self-respect. 

"Well, I would call my housemaid anything if I could only get 



332 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

one," says one young married woman. "There must be more 
to this new plan than calling them Home Assistants and address- 
ing them as Miss." 

Let us read further in the advertisement: "Eight hours a day; 
six days a week." One full day and one half day off each week, 
making a total of forty-four hours weekly which is the standard 
working week in most industrial occupations. At least two free 
Sundays a month should be given and a convenient week-day 
substituted for the other two Sundays. If Saturday is not the 
best half day to give, another afternoon may be arranged with 
the Home Assistant. 

"Impossible," I can hear Mrs. Reader say, "I couldn't get 
along with eight hours' work a day, forty-four hours a week." 
No! Well, possibly you have had to get along without any maid 
at all, or you may have had some one in your kitchen who is in- 
competent and slovenly, whom you dare not discharge for fear 
you can not replace her. Would you rather not have a good in- 
terested worker for eight hours a day than none at all? During 
that time the Home Assistant works steadily and specialization 
is done away with. She is there to do your work and she does 
whatever may be called for. If she is asked to take care of the 
baby for a few hours, she does it willingly, as part of her duties; 
or if she is called upon to do some ironing left in the basket, 
she assumes that it is part of her work, and does n't say, "No, 
Madam, I was n't hired to do that," at the same time putting on 
her hat and leaving as under the old system. 

The new plan seems expensive? "Twelve dollars a week is 
more than I have paid my domestic helper," Mrs. Reader says. 
But consider this more carefully. You pay from thirty-five to 
fifty dollars a month with all the worker's food and lodging pro- 
vided. This is at the rate of eight to eleven dollars a week for 
wages. Food and room cost at least five dollars a week, and 
most estimates are higher. The old type of houseworker has cost 
us more than we have realized. The new system compares favor- 
ably in expense with the old. 

" I am perfectly certain it would n't be practical not to feed my 
helper," Mrs. Reader says. Under the old system of a twelve to 
fourteen-hour working day, it would not be feasible, but if she is 
on the eight-hour basis, the worker can bring a box-luncheon 
with her, or she can go outside to a restaurant just as she would if 
she were in an office or factory. The time spent in eating is not 
included in her day's work. Think of the relief to the house- 



WANTED: A HOME ASSISTANT SS3 

keeper who can order what her family likes to eat without having 
to say, "Oh, I can't have that; Mary would n't eat it you know." 

"I can't afford a Home Assistant or a maid at the present 
wages," some one says. "But I do wish I had some one who 
could get and serve dinner every night. I am so tired by evening 
that cooking is the last straw." 

Try looking for a Home Assistant for four hours a day to re- 
lieve you of just this work. You would have to pay about a dol- 
lar a day or six dollars a week for such service and it would be 
worth it. 

How does the Home Assistant plan work in households where 
two or more helpers are kept? The more complicated homes run 
several shifts of workers, coming in at different hours and cover- 
ing every need of the day. One woman I talked to told me that 
she studied out her problem in this way! She did every bit of 
the work in her house for a while in order to find out how long 
each job took. She found, for instance, that it took twenty-five 
minutes to clean one bathroom, ten minutes to brush down and 
dust a flight of stairs, thirty minutes to do the dinner dishes, and 
so on through all the work. She made out a time-card which 
showed that twenty-two hours of work a day was needed for her 
home. She knew how much money she could spend and she pro- 
ceeded to divide the work and money among several assistants 
coming in on different shifts. Her household now runs like clock- 
work. One of the splendid things about this new system is its 
great flexibility and the fact that it can be adapted to any house- 
hold. 

Thoughtful and intelligent planning such as this woman gave 
to her problems is necessary for the greatest success of the plan. 
The old haphazard methods must go. The housekeeper who has 
been in the habit of coming into her kitchen about half past five 
and saying, "Oh, Mary, what can we have for dinner? I have 
just come back from down-town; I did expect to be home sooner," 
will not get the most out of her Home Assistant. Work must be 
scheduled and planned ahead, the home must be run on business 
methods if the system is to succeed. I heard this explained to a 
group of women not long ago. After the talk, one of them said, 
"Well, in business houses and factories there is a foreman who 
runs the shop and oversees the workers. It would n't work in 
homes because we have n't any foreman." She had entirely 
overlooked her job as forewoman of her own establishment! 

"Suppose I have company for dinner and the Home Assistant 



834 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

is n't through her work when her eight hours are up, what hap- 
pens? " some one asks. All overtime work is paid for at the rate 
of one and one-half times the hourly rate. If you are paying 
your assistant twelve dollars for a forty-four-hour week, you are 
giving her twenty-eight cents an hour. One and one half times 
this amounts to forty-two cents an hour, which she receives for 
extra work just as she would in the business world. 

"Will these girls from offices and stores do their work well.^ 
They have had no training for housework unless they have hap- 
pened to do some in their own homes," some one wisely remarks. 
The lack of systematic preparation has always been one of the 
troubles with our domestic helpers. It is true that the new t5T)e 
of girl trained in business to be punctual and alert, and to use her 
mind, adapts herself very quickly to her work, but the trained 
worker in any field has an advantage. With this in mind the 
Central Branch of the Young Women's Christian Association in 
New York City has started a training-school for Home Assistants. 
The course provides demonstrations on the preparation of break- 
fasts, lunches, and dinners, and talks on the following: House- 
cleaning, Laundry, Care of Children, Shopping, Planning work, 
Deportment, Efficiency, and Duty to Employer. This course 
gives a girl a general knowledge of her duties and what is even 
more important she acquires the right mental attitude toward her 
work. The girls are given an examination and those who success- 
fully pass it are given a certificate and placed as Trained Home 
Assistants at fifteen dollars a week. 

The National Association would like to see these training- 
schools turning out this type of worker for the homes all over the 
country. This is a constructive piece of work for women to un- 
dertake. Housewives' Leagues have interested themselves in 
this in various centers, and the Y.W.C.A. will help wherever it 
can. There are always home economics graduates in every town 
who could help give the course, and there are excellent house- 
keepers who excel in some branch who could give a talk or two. 

The course would be worth a great deal in results to any com- 
munity. The United States Employment Bureaus are also tak- 
ing a hand in this, and, with the cooperation of the High Schools, 
are placing girls as trained assistants on the new basis. I have 
talked with many women who are not only using this plan to-day 
but have been for several years. 

It has been more than six years ago since Mrs. Helene Barker's 
book "Wanted a Young Woman to Do Housework" was pub- 



WANTED: A HOME ASSISTANT 335 

lished. This gave the working plan to the idea. Women in Bos- 
ton, Providence, New York, Cleveland, and in many other cities 
have become so enthusiastic over their success in running their 
homes with the Home Assistants that a number are giving their 
time to lecturing and talking to groups of women about it. 

Let me give two concrete illustrations of the practical applica- 
tion of housework on a business basis. 

Mrs. A. lives in a small city in the Middle West. Her house- 
hold consists of herself, her husband, and her twelve year old son. 
She had had the usual string of impossible maids or none at all 
until she tried the new system. Through a girls' club in a factory 
in the city, she secured a young woman to work for her at factory 
hours and wages. Her assistant came at seven-thirty in the 
morning. By having the breakfast cereal prepared the night be- 
fore, breakfast could be served promptly at eight, a plan which 
was necessary in order that the boy get to school on time. Each 
morning's work was written out and hung up in the kitchen so 
that the assistant wasted no time in waiting to know what she 
had to do. Lunch was at twelve-fifteen, and at one o'clock the 
Home Assistant went home. 

She came back on regular duty at five-thirty to prepare and 
serve the dinner. Except for times when there were guests for 
dinner she was through her work by eight. When she worked 
overtime, there was the extra pay to compensate. Mrs. A. paid 
her thirteen dollars a week and felt that she saved money by the 
new plan. The assistant was off duty every other Sunday, and 
on alternate weeks was given all day Tuesday off instead of Sun- 
day. Tuesday was the day the heavy washing was done and the 
laundress was there to help with any work which Mrs. A. did not 
feel equal to doing. Even though there are times in the day 
when she is alone, Mrs. A. says she would not go back to the old 
system for anything. 

Mrs. B. lives in a city apartment. There are four grown people 
in the family. She formerly kept two maids, a cook-laundress, 
and a waitress-chambermaid. She often had a great deal of 
trouble finding a cook who would do the washing. As her apart- 
ment had only one maid's room, she had to give one of the guest- 
rooms to the second maid. She paid these girls forty dollars 
apiece and provided them with room and board. Her apartment 
cost her one hundred and fifteen dollars a month for seven rooms, 
two of which were occupied by maids. 

Mrs. B. decided to put her household on the new business basis 



336 ' SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

last Fall. She moved into a five-room apartment which cost her 
ninety dollars, but she had larger rooms and a newer building 
with more up-to-date improvements than she had had before. 
She saved twenty-five dollars a month on rent plus eighty dol- 
lars wages and about thirty dollars on her former maids' food. 
All together she had one hundred and thirty-five dollars which 
could be used for Home Assistants. This is the way the money 
was spent: 

A laundress once a week $2 . 60 

Home Assistant, on duty from 7.30 a.m. to 2 p.m 10.00 

Home Assistant, on duty from 12 m. to 9 p.m 15.00 

Week $27.60 

On this schedule the work was done better than ever before. 
There was no longer any grievance about the washing. Mrs. B. 
had some one continuously on duty. The morning assistant was 
allowed a half hour at noon to eat her luncheon which she brought 
with her. As Mrs. B. entertained a great deal, especially at 
luncheon, she arranged to have the schedule of the two assistants 
overlap at this time of day. The morning worker, it will be 
noted, was employed for only six hours. The afternoon worker 
was a trained assistant and, therefore, received fifteen dollars a 
week. She had an hour off, between three-thirty and four-thirty 
and was on duty again in time to serve tea or afternoon refresh- 
ments. If there were a number of extra people for dinner, the 
assistant was expected to stay until nine and there was never any 
complaining about too much company. Mrs. B. has a better 
apartment and saves money every month besides! 



{New York Sun) 

SIX YEARS OF TEA ROOMS 
Business Career of a Woman College Graduate 

" For the last three years I have cleared S5,000 a year on my tea 
rooms," declared a young woman who six years ago was gradu- 
ated with distinction at one of the leading colleges of the country. 

" I attained my twenty-third birthday a month after I received 
my diploma. On that day I took stock of the capital with which 
I was to step into the world and earn my own living. My stock 



SIX YEARS OF TEA ROOMS 337 

taking showed perfect health, my college education and $300, my 
share of my father's estate after the expenses of my college course 
had been paid. 

" In spite of the protests of many of my friends I decided to be- 
come a business woman instead of entering one of the professions. 
I believed that a well conducted tea room in a college town where 
there was nothing of the kind would pay well, and I proceeded to 
open a place. 

*' After renting a suitable room I invested $100 in furnishings. 
Besides having a paid announcement in the college and town pa- 
pers I had a thousand leaflets printed and distributed. 

"Though I could n't afford music I did have my rooms deco- 
rated profusely with flowers on the afternoon of my opening. As 
it was early in the autumn the flowers were inexpensive and made 
a brave show. My only assistant was a young Irish woman 
whom I had engaged for one month as waitress, with the under- 
standing that if my venture succeeded I would engage her perma- 
nently. 

" We paid expenses that first afternoon, and by the end of the 
week the business had increased to such an extent that I might 
have engaged a second waitress had not so many of my friends 
persisted in shaking their heads and saying the novelty would 
soon wear off. During the second week my little Irish girl and I 
had so much to do that on several occasions our college boy pa- 
trons felt themselves constrained to offer their services as wait- 
ers, while more than one of the young professors after a long wait 
left the room with the remark that they would go elsewhere, 

"Of course it was well enough to laugh as we all knew there 
was no 'elsewhere,' but when I recalled how ready people are to 
crowd into a field that has proved successful, I determined no 
longer to heed the shaking heads of my friends. The third week 
found me not only with a second assistant but with a card posted 
in a conspicuous place announcing that at the beginning of the 
next week I would enlarge my quarters in such a way as to ac- 
commodate more than twice as many guests. 

"Having proved to my own satisfaction that my venture was 
and would be successful, I did n't hesitate to go into debt to the 
extent of $150. This was not only to repair and freshen up the 
new room but also to equip it with more expensive furnishing 
than I had felt myself justified in buying for the first. 

"Knowing how every little thing that happens is talked about 
in a college town, I was sure the difference in the furnishings of 



338 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

the rooms would prove a good advertisement. I counted on it to 
draw custom, but not just in the way it did. 

'' Before I realized just what was happening I was receiving 
letters from college boys who, after proclaiming themselves 
among my very first customers, demanded to know why they 
were discriminated against. I had noticed that everybody ap- 
peared to prefer the new room and that on several occasions when 
persons telephoning for reservations had been unable to get the 
promise of a table in there, they had said they would wait and 
come at another time. What I had not noticed was that only 
men coming alone or with other men, and girls coming with other 
girls, would accept seats in the first room. 

''I learned from the letters of 'my very first patrons' that no 
gentleman would take a girl to have tea in a second class tea 
room. They were not only hitting at the cheaper furnishings of 
my first room but also at the waiter whom I had employed, be- 
cause I felt the need of a man's help in doing heavy work. The 
girl in her fresh apron and cap was more attractive than the man, 
and because he happened to serve in the first room he also was 
second class. 

" No, I could n't afford to buy new furniture for that room, so I 
did the only thing I could think of. I mixed the furniture in such 
a way as to make the two rooms look practically alike. I hired 
another girl and relegated the man to the kitchen except in case 
of emergency. 

"Although my custom fell off in summer to a bare sprinkling 
of guests afternoons and evenings and to almost no one at lunch, 
I kept the same number of employees and had them put up pre- 
serves, jams, syrups, and pickles for use the coming season. I 
knew it would not only be an economical plan but also a great 
drawing card, especially with certain of the professors, to be able 
to say that everything served was made on the place and under 
my own supervision. 

"My second winter proved so successful that I determined to 
buy a home for my business so that I might have things exactly as 
I wished. I was able to pay the first instalment, $2,500, on the 
purchase price and still have enough in bank to make alterations 
and buy the necessary furnishings. 

"The move was made during the summer, and when I opened 
up in the autumn I had such crowds afternoons and evenings 
that I had to put extra tables in the halls until I could get a room 
on the second floor ready. At present I have two entire floors 



SIX YEARS OF TEA ROOMS 33& 

and often have so many waiting that it is next to impossible to 
pass through the entrance hall. 

"Three summers ago I opened a second tea room at a seashore 
resort on the New England coast. I heard of the place through a 
classmate whose family owned a cottage down there. She de- 
scribed it as deadly dull, because there was nothing to do but 
bathe and boat unless you were the happy possessor of an auto- 
mobile or a horse. 

" I was so much interested in her description of the place that I 
went down one warm day in April and looked things over. I 
found a stretch of about three miles of beach lined with well 
appearing and handsome cottages and not a single place of 
amusement. The village behind the beach is a lovely old place, 
with twenty or more handsome old homes surrounded by grand 
trees. There are two or three small stores, a post office, two liver- 
ies and the railroad station half a mile away. 

"Before I left that afternoon I had paid the first month's rent 
on the best of the only two cottages to be rented on the beach. 
Of course it needed considerable fixing up and that had to be done 
at my own expense, but as I was getting it at a rental of $200 for 
the season I was not worried at the outlay. The cottages told 
me enough of the character of the people who summered on that 
beach to make me sure that I would get good interest on all the 
money spent. 

" Immediately after commencement I shut up my college tea 
rooms, leaving only the kitchen and storeroom open and in 
charge of an experienced woman with instructions to get more 
help when putting up preserves and pickles made it necessary. 
Then I moved. 

"The two first days on the beach my tea room did n't have a 
visitor. People strolled by and stared at the sign, but nobody 
came in to try my tea. The third day I had a call from my land- 
lord, who informed me that he had been misled into letting me 
have his cottage, and offering to return the amount paid for the 
first month's rent, he very politely requested me to move out. 

"After considerable talking I discovered that the cottagers 
did n't like the way my waitresses dressed. They were too sty- 
lish and my rooms appeared from the outside to be so brilliantly 
lighted that they thought I intended to sell liquor. 

"I did n't accept the offered rent, neither did I agree to move 
out, but I did assure my landlord that I would go the very day 
anything really objectionable happened on my premises. I told 



340 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

him of my success in the college town and then invited him to 
bring his family the following afternoon to try my tea. 

''Well, they came, they saw, and I conquered. That evening 
all the tables on my piazza were filled and there was a slight 
sprinkling indoors. A few days later the classmate who had told 
me of the place came down for the summer and my troubles were 
at an end. 

"The secret of my success is hard work and catering to the 
taste of my patrons. Had I opened either a cheap or a showy 
place in the college town, I would not have gained the good will 
of the faculty or the patronage of the best class of students. If 
my prices had been too high or the refreshments served not up to 
the notch, the result would not have been so satisfactory. 

"Knowing one college town pretty well, I knew just about 
what was needed in the student's life; that is, an attractive look- 
ing place, eminently respectable, where you can take your best 
girl and get good things to eat well served at a reasonable cost. 

"The needs of the beach were pretty much the same. People 
can't stay in the water all the time, neither can they spin around 
the country or go to an unlighted village at night in their car- 
riages and automobiles. My tea room offers a recreation, with- 
out being a dissipation. 

"Another point about which many people question me is the 
effect of my being a business woman on my social standing. I 
have n't noticed any slights. I receive many more invitations 
than it is possible for me to accept. I go with the same set of 
girls that I did while I was in college. 

"Two of my classmates are lawyers, more than one is a doctor, 
and three have gone on the stage. I know that my earnings are 
far more than any of theirs, and I am sure they do not enjoy 
their business any more than I do. If I had to begin again I 
would do exactly as I have done, with one exception — I would 
lay out the whole of my $300 in furnishing that first tea room in- 
stead of keeping $75 as a nest egg in bank." 



BY PARCEL POST 341 

(Country Gentleman) 

Two illustrations: 

1. Half-tone reproducing photograph of dressed chickens with 
the caption, " There is this rule you must observe: Pick your 
chickens clean." 

2. Reproduction in type of shipping label. 

BY PARCEL POST 

One Man's Way of Serving the Direct-to-Consumer 

Market 

By a. L. SARRAN 

If you live within a hundred and fifty miles of a city, if you 
possess ordinary common sense and have the ability to write a 
readable and understandable letter, you may, from September to 
April of each year, when other farmers and their wives are con- 
suming instead of producing, earn from fifty to a hundred and 
fifty dollars net profit each month. You may do this by fatten- 
ing and dressing chickens for city folks, and by supplying regu- 
larly fresh country sausage, hams, lard and eggs. 

This is not an idle theory. Last September I began with one 
customer; today — this was written the end of March — I have 
nearly 500 customers to whom I am supplying farm products by 
parcel post. 

Instead of selling my chickens to the huckster or to the local 
poultry house for twelve cents a pound, I am selling them to the 
consumer in the city for twenty cents a pound, live weight, plus 
the cost of boxing and postage. Not only that, I am buying 
chickens from my neighbors at a premium of one to two cents 
over the huckster's prices, "niilk feeding" them, and selling 
them to my city customers at a profit of six to seven cents a 
pound. 

I buy young hogs from my neighbors at market prices and 
make them into extra good country sausage that nets me twenty- 
five cents a pound in the city, and into hams for which I get 
twenty-five cents a pound, delivered. The only pork product on 
which I do not make an excellent profit is lard. I get fifteen 
cents a pound for it, delivered to the city customer, and it costs 
me almost that much to render and pack it. 

At this writing storekeepers and egg buyers in my county are 
paying the farmer seventeen cents for his eggs. I am getting 



342 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

twenty-five cents a dozen for eggs in thirty-dozen cases and 
twenty-nine cents a dozen in two-dozen boxes. My prices to the 
city man are based upon the Water Street, Chicago, quotation 
for "firsts," which, at this writing, is nineteen cents. If this 
price goes up I go up; if it goes down I go down. 

I got my customers by newspaper advertising — ahnost exclu- 
sively. It is a comforting belief that one satisfied customer will 
get you another, and that that customer will get you another, 
and so on, but it has not so worked out in my experience. Out 
of all my customers less than twelve have become customers 
through the influence of friends. 

My experience has taught me another thing: That direct ad- 
vertising does not pay. By direct advertising I mean the mailing 
of letters and circulars to a list of names in the hope of selling 
something to persons whose names are on that list. 

I tried it three times — once to a list of names I bought from a 
dealer in such lists ; once to a list that I myself compiled from the 
society columns of two Chicago dailies; and once to a classified 
list that I secured from a directory. 

The results in these cases were about the same. The net cost 
of each new customer that I secured by circulars and letters was 
$2.19. The net cost of each new customer that I secured by 
newspaper advertising was fifty-four cents. 

Not every city newspaper will get such results. In my case I 
selected that paper in Chicago which in my judgment went into 
the greatest number of prosperous homes, and whose pages were 
kept clean of quack and swindling advertisements. I used only 
the Sunday issues, because I believe the Sunday issues are 
most thoroughly read. 

The farmer will want to use, and properly so, the classified 
columns of the paper for his advertising. But he should patron- 
ize only that paper whose columns provide a classification espe- 
cially for farm and food products. 

I spent twelve dollars for advertising in one clean Chicago 
daily with a good circulation, and got three orders. The trouble 
was that my advertisement went into a column headed "Busi- 
ness Personals," along with a lot of manicure and massage ad- 
vertising. 

He on the farm who proposes to compete with the shipper, com- 
mission man and retailer for the city man's trade should devote 
his efforts to producing food of a better quality than the city man 
is accustomed to get via the shipper-commission-man-retailer 



BY PARCEL POST 343 

route. Wherefore I proposed to give the city man the fattest, 
tenderest, juiciest, cleanest, freshest chicken he could get — and 
charge him a profitable price in so doing. 

When I wrote my advertisements I did not stint myself for 
space. An advertisement that tells no reason why the reader 
should buy from the advertiser is, in my opinion, a poor adver- 
tisement. Therefore, I told my story in full to the readers of the 
Sunday paper, although it cost me six cents a word to do it. 
Here is a sample of my advertising: 

I SEND young, milk-fed chickens, ready for the cook, direct 
to you from the farm. These chickens are fattened in 
wire-bottomed, sanitary coops, thus insuring absolute clean- 
liness, on a ration of meal, middlings and milk. The 
chicken you get from me is fresh; it is killed after your 
order is received; is dressed, drawn, cooled out for 24 hours 
in dry air, wrapped in waxed paper and delivered to you on 
the morning of the third day after your order is mailed; 
it is fat, tender and sweet. The ordinary chicken that is 
fattened on unspeakable filth in the farmer's barnyard, and 
finds its way to your table via the huckster-shipper-com- 
mission-man-retailer route cannot compare with one of 
mine. Send me your check — no stamps — for $1.15 and I 
will send you a five-pound — live-weight — roasting chicken 
for a sample. If it does not please you I'll give your 
money back. Add 62 cents to that check and I '11 mail you 
in a separate box a two-pound package of the most deli- 
cious fresh-ground sausage meat you ever ate. Made from 
the selected meats of young hogs only; not highly seasoned. 
These sausage cakes make a breakfast fit for a President. 
Money back if you don't like them. 

A. L. Sarran. 

Notice that I told why the reader should buy one of my chick- 
ens rather than a chicken of whose antecedents he knew nothing. 
That it paid to spend six cents a word to tell him so is proved by 
the fact that this particular advertisement brought me, in four 
days, twenty-three orders, each accompanied by a check. I re- 
peated my advertisements in Sunday issues, stopping only when 
I had as many customers as I could take care of. 

Getting a customer and keeping him are two different proposi- 
tions. A customer's first order is sent because of the representa- 
tion made in the advertisement that he read. His second and his 



844 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

subsequent orders depend upon how you satisfy him and continue 
to satisfy him. 

My rule is to select, weigh, dress, draw, handle, wrap and box 
the chicken with the same scrupulous care that I would exercise 
if the customer were actually present and watching me. 

I have another rule: The customer is always right. If he com- 
plains I satisfy him, immediately and cheerfully. It is better to 
lose a chicken than to lose a customer. 

I am now about to make a statement with which many of my 
readers will not agree. It is more than true; it is so important 
that the success of a mail-order business in dressed chickens de- 
pends upon a realization of it. It is this: A majority of fanners 
and their wives do not know what constitutes a fat chicken. 

I make this statement because of the experience I have had 
with country folks in buying their chickens for my feeding coops. 
If they really consider to be fat the chickens which they have 
assured me were fat, then they do not know fat chickens. A 
chicken can be fat to a degree without being so fat as he can or 
should be made for the purpose of marketing. 

There is a flavor about a well-fattened, milk-fed chicken that 
no other chicken has. Every interstice of his flesh is juicy and 
oily. No part of him is tough, stringy muscle, as is the case if he 
is "farm-fattened" while being allowed to range where he will. 

If j^ou think your chicken is a fat one, pick it up and rub the 
ball of your thumb across its backbone about an inch behind the 
base of the wings. If the backbone is felt clearly and distinctly 
the chicken is not fat. 

I fatten my chickens in coops the floors of which are made of 
heavy wire having one-inch mesh; underneath the wire is a 
droppings pan, which is emptied every day. My coops are built 
in tiers and long sections. I have ninety of them, each one ac- 
commodating nine chickens. I have enough portable feeding 
coops with wire bottoms and droppings pans underneath to en- 
able me to feed, in all, about one thousand chickens at one time. 

Chickens should be fed from ten to fourteen days m the coops. 
I give no feed whatever to the chicken the first day he is in the 
coop, but I keep a supply of sour milk in the trough for him. I 
feed my chickens three times a day. 

At seven a.m. I give them a fairly thick batter of meal, mid- 
dlings or oat flour, about half and half, and sour milk. I feed 
them only what they will clean up in the course of half an hour. 
At noon I feed them again only what they will clean up in half an 



BY PARCEL POST S45 

hour. This feed is the same as the morning feed except that it is 
thinner. About four o'clock I give them a trough full of the same 
feed, but so thick it will barely pour out from the bucket into the 
trough. 

The next morning the troughs are emptied — if anything re- 
mains in them — into the big kettle where the feed is mixed for 
the morning feeding. The idea is this: More fat and flesh are 
made at night than in the daytime; therefore see that no chicken 
goes to bed with an empty crop. 

About the eighth to tenth day force the feeding — see to it 
that the chicken gets all it will eat three times a day. 

By keeping an accurate account of the costs of meal, milk, and 
so on, I find that I can put a pound of fat on a coop-fed chicken 
for seven cents. When one considers that this same pound brings 
twenty cents, and that milk feeding in coops raises the per pound 
value of the chicken from twelve to twenty cents, one must admit 
that feeding chickens is more profitable than feeding cattle. 

Do not feed your chicken anything for twenty-four hours be- 
fore killing it. Do not worry about loss in weight. The only 
weight it will lose will be the weight of the feed in its crop and 
gizzard, and the offal in its intestines — and you are going to lose 
that anyway when you dress and draw it. If you will keep the 
bird off feed for twenty-four hours you will find that it will draw 
much more easily and cleanly. 

Hang the chicken up by the feet and kill it by bleeding it away 
back in the mouth. Let it bleed to death. Grasp the chicken's 
head in your left hand, the back of its head against the palm of 
your hand. Do not hold it by the neck, but grasp it by the bony 
part of its head and jaws. Reach into the throat with a three- 
inch, narrow, sharp knife and cut toward the top and front of the 
head. 

You will sever the big cross vein that connects the two "jugu- 
lar" veins in the neck, and the blood will pour out of the mouth. 
If you know how to dry-pick you will not need to be told anything 
by me; if you do not know it will do you no good to have me tell 
you, because I do not believe a person can learn to dry-pick chick- 
ens by following printed instructions. At any rate, I could not. 
I never learned until I hired a professional picker to come out 
from town to teach me. 

So far as I can judge, it makes no difference to the consumer in 
the city whether the chicken is scalded or dry-picked. There is 
this to be said for the scalded chicken — that it is a more cleanly 



346 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

picked chicken than the dry-picked one. The pin feathers are 
more easily removed when the chicken is scalded. 

On the other hand, there are those feed-speciahzing, accurate- 
to-the-ten-thousandth-part-of-an-inch experts, who say that the 
dry-picked chicken keeps better than the scalded one. If the 
weather is warmer than, say, seventy-five degrees, it might; mi- 
der that, there is no difference. 

I do the most of my selling in Chicago, and my place is a hun- 
dred and fifty miles south of that city; if a scalded chicken will 
keep when I am selling it that far away it will keep for almost 
anyone, because none of you is going to sell many chickens at any 
point more than a hundred and fifty miles from your place. 

There is this caution to be observed in scalding a chicken: Do 
not have the water too hot. I had trouble on this score, and as a 
result my chickens were dark and did not present an appetizing 
appearance. Finally I bought a candy thermometer — one that 
registered up to 400 degrees. By experimenting I found that 180 
degrees was the point at which a chicken scalded to pick the easi- 
est, but that a chicken scalded at 165 degrees presented a better 
appearance after being picked and cooled. Whichever method 
you use, observe this rule: Pick your chicken clean. 

After my chicken has cooled out enough so the flesh will cut 
easily, I draw it. I chop off the head close up, draw back the 
skin of the neck a couple of inches, and then cut off the neck. 
The flap of skin thus left serves to cover the bloody and un- 
sightly stub of the neck. Next I open up the chicken from be- 
hind and below the vent and pull out the gizzard — if the 
chicken has been kept off feed for twenty-four hours the empty 
crop will come with it — intestines and liver. I remove the gall 
bladder from the liver, open and clean the gizzard, and replace it 
and the liver in the chicken. 

Then I cut a slit across the chicken just back of the keel of the 
breast bone. I cut the feet off at the knee joint and slip the 
drumstick through this slit. Then I lay the chicken up to cool 
out overnight. The next morning it may be wrapped and boxed, 
and is then ready for mailing. 

Wrapping and boxing must not be slighted. The clean, sani- 
tary appearance of the chicken when it is unpacked in the kitchen 
of your customer goes a long way toward prejudicing that cus- 
tomer in your favor. I buy thirty pounds of waxed paper, 
twenty-four by thirty-six inches, and have the paper house cut it 
in two. This gives me 1000 sheets, each eighteen by twenty-four 



BY PARCEL POST 347 

inches, for the price of a ream of the full size — at this time about 
five dollars, or a half cent a sheet. 

Each chicken is wrapped in one sheet of this waxed paper, and 
is then packed in a corrugated paper box made especially for send- 
ing chickens by parcel post. 

I buy three sizes of these boxes. One size, which costs me four 
cents each, will hold one four-pound chicken when dressed and 
drawn. The next size, costing five cents each, will hold two very 
small chickens,, or one large chicken. The third size, costing six 
cents each, will hold two large chickens, three medium-sized 
ones, or four small ones. 

Do not use makeshifts, such as old shoe boxes. In the first 
place, your shipment is not properly protected by such a box; in 
the second place, your postmaster is likely to refuse to accept it 
for mailing, as he would be justified in doing; and in the third 
place, your customer receives his chicken in a box that has been 
used for he wonders what, and has been in he wonders what 
places. 

It is for this reason that I never ask a customer to return a box 
to me. I do not want to use a box a second time. If I were a city 
man, getting my chickens by mail, I should want them sent to me 
in a brand-new box, made for the special purpose of sending 
chickens by mail — and I 'd want them in no other box. Then 
I 'd feel sure of them. 

The cost of shipping by parcel post is low. I live ten miles 
from my county seat, and the postage required to send a five- 
pound, live-weight chicken, dressed and boxed, from my place to 
town is eight cents. The postage required to send that same five- 
pound chicken from here to Chicago, one hundred and fifty miles, 
is eight cents. The express company charges twenty-six cents 
for the same service, and does not deliver so quickly. 

But parcel-post delivery was not always so admirably done in 
Chicago. When I began shipping up there last September it was 
no uncommon thing for my packages to be so delayed that many 
chickens would spoil. 

I recall the "straw that broke the camel's back." I mailed 
twenty-six chickens one day — and in due course I received thir- 
teen letters, each advising me of the same mournful event. The 
chicken had spoiled because of delay in delivery. My wife 
wanted to quit. I did n't. I made good the losses to the cus- 
tomers and prepared a label, a copy of which I forwarded to the 
Third Assistant Postmaster General at Washington, asking his 



348 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

permission to use it, and telling him of the vexatious and expen- 
sive delays in delivering my packages in Chicago. 

In due time I received the desired permission, and ordered the 
labels printed. The scheme worked. Every time a package was 
not delivered on schedule time the customer notified me, and I 
made complaint to the postmaster at Chicago. 

Gradually the service improved until now I have no trouble at 
all. If I were to ship two packages today to the same address in 
Chicago, sending one by parcel post and the other by express, I 
believe the parcel-post package would be delivered first. At any 
rate, it has been done for me. 

The weakness in the parcel-post delivery lies in the fact that 
perishable products — such as dressed chickens — cannot be 
handled in warm weather. I think that if the Post Office De- 
partment would cut some of its red tape and permit the ship- 
ment of air-tight packages in air-tight conveyors this particular 
problem could be solved. 

You will, of course, have more or less correspondence with 
your customers. By all means use your own letterheads, but do 
not let your printer embellish them with cuts of roosters, chick- 
ens, pigs, or the like. Not that we are ashamed of them; far be it 
from such. You do not, however, need to have a sheet of paper 
littered up with pictures of imaginary animals in order to con- 
vince your customer that you are selling the meats of that ani- 
mal. I like a plainly printed letterhead that carries my name, my 
address and my business. That 's all. 

By all means keep books on your farm-to-table venture, if you 
undertake it. Set down on one side of the page what you pay for 
boxes, labels, postage, and so on, including what you pay your- 
seK for chickens at your huckster's prices. On the other side of 
the page set down what your city customer pays you. Add up 
the pages, do a simple sum in subtraction, and you will know just 
how much you have made. 

If I kept only twenty-five hens I should sell my eggs and my 
chickens direct to the city consumer. When the farmer learns 
to sell direct instead of letting the huckster, the poultry house, 
the commission man, the dresser and the retailer stand between 
him and the consumer, then poultry raising will become really 
profitable. 

There are too many folks who sell their eggs and "take it out 
in trade." 



SALES WITHOUT SALESMANSHIP 349 

{Saturday Evening Post) 
One large illustration, a wash drawing, made by a staff artist. 
SALES WITHOUT SALESMANSHIP 
By JAMES H. COLLINS 

"Say, you^re a funny salesman!" exclaimed the business man. 
*'Here I make up my own mind that I need two motor trucks and 
decide to buy 'em from your company. Then I send for a sales- 
man. You come down and spend a week looking into my horse 
delivery, and now you tell me to keep my horses. What kind of 
a salesman do you call yourself anyway?" 

"What made you think you needed motor trucks?" was the 
counterquestion of the serious, thick-spectacled young chap. 

"Everyone else seems to be turning to gasoline delivery. I 
want to be up to date." 

"Your delivery problem lies outside the gasoline field," said 
the salesman. "Your drivers make an average of ninety stops 
each trip. They climb stairs and wait for receipts. Their rigs 
are standing at the curb more than half the time. Nothing in 
gasoline equipment can compete with the horse and wagon 
under such conditions. If you had loads of several tons to be 
kept moving steadily I'd be glad to sell you two trucks." 

" Suppose I wanted to buy them anyway?" 

"We could not accept your order." 

"But you'd make your commission and the company its 
profit." 

"Yes; but you'd make a loss, and within a year your experi- 
ence would react unfavorably upon us." 

So no sale was effected. Facts learned during his investigation 
of this business man's delivery problem led the salesman to make 
suggestions that eliminated wa,ste and increased the effectiveness 
of his horse rigs. 

About a year later, however, this business man sent for the 
salesman again. He contemplated motorized hauling for an- 
other company of which he was the president. After two days' 
study the salesman reported that motor trucks were practicable 
and that he needed about five of them. 

"All right — fill out the contract," directed the business man. 

" Don't you want to know how these trucks are going to make 
you money? " asked the salesman. 



350 SPECL\L FEATURE ARTICLES 

"No; if you say I need five trucks, then I know that's just 

what I need!" 

A new kind of salesmanship is being developed in many lines 
of business — and particularly in the rebuilding of sales organi- 
zations made necessary by the ending of the war and return to 
peace production. "Study your goods," was the salesman's 
axiom yesterday. "Study your customer's problem," is the \dew- 
point to-day; and it is transforming the salesman and sales 
methods. 

Indeed, the word salesman tends to disappear under this new 
vie^-point, for the organization which was once charged largely 
with disposing of goods may now be so intimately involved in 
technical studies of the customers' problems that selling is a sec- 
ondary part of its work. The Sales Department is being re- 
named, and known as the Ad^isor^^ Department or the Research 
Staff; while the salesman himseh becomes a Technical Counsel or 
Engineering Adviser. 

Camouflage.^ No; simply better expression of broader functions. 

As a salesman, probably he gave much attention to the ap- 
proach and argument with which he gained his customer's atten- 
tion and confidence. But, with his new \uewpoint and method 
of attack, perhaps the first step is asking permission to study the 
customer's transportation needs, or accounting routine, or power 
plant — or whatever section of the latter's business is involved. 

The experience of the thick-spectacled motor-truck salesman 
was tj-pical. Originally he sold passenger cars. Then came the 
war, with factory facilities centered on munitions and motor 
trucks. There being no more passenger cars to sell, they switched 
him over into the motor-truck section. There he floundered for 
a while, trj'ing to develop sales arguments along the old lines. 
But the old arguments did not seem to fit, somehow. 

It might have been possible to demonstrate the superior con- 
struction of his motor truck; but competitors would meet point 
with point, and customers were not interested in technicahties 
anjnivay. He tried serv-ice as an argument ; but that was largely 
a promise of what motor trucks would do for people after they 
bought them, and competitors could always promise just as 
much, and a httle more. 

Company reputation? His company had a fine one — but 
motor-truck purchasers wanted to know the cost of moving 
freight. Price.^ No argument at all, because only one other con- 
cern made motor trucks calling for so great an initial investment. 



SALES WITHOUT SALESMANSHIP 851 

So Thick-Specs, being naturally serious and solid, began to dig 
into motor trucks from the standpoint of the customer. He got 
permission to investigate delivery outfits in many lines. Selling 
a five-ton motor truck to many a business man was often equiva- 
lent to letting Johnny play with a loaded machine gun. Such a 
vehicle combined the potentiality of moving from fifty to sev- 
enty-five tons of freight daily, according to routing and the num- 
ber of hours employed; but it involved a daily expense of twenty- 
five dollars. 

The purchaser could lose money in two ways at swift ratios, 
and perhaps unsuspectingly: He might not use his full hauhng 
capacity each day or would use it only half the year, during his 
busy season. Or he might underestimate costs by overlooking 
such items as interest and depreciation. 

Thick-Specs^ first actual sale was not a motor truck at all, but a 
motorcycle, made by another company. Within three months, 
however, this motorcycle added two big trucks to a fleet of one 
dozen operated by a wholesale firm. That concern had good 
trucks, and kept them in a well-equipped garage, where mainte- 
nance was good. But at least once daily there would be a road 
breakdown. Usually this is a minor matter, but it ties up the 
truck while its puzzled driver tries to locate the trouble. 

When a motorcycle was bought for the garage, drivers were 
forbidden to tamper with machinery on the road — they tele- 
phoned in to the superintendent. By answering each call on his 
own motorcycle — about an hour daily — the repairman kept 
equipment in such good shape that valuable extra service was se- 
cured from the fleet each day. 

The salesman-adviser did not originate this scheme himself , but 
discovered it in another concern's motor-truck organization; 
in fact, this is the advantage the salesman-adviser enjoys — 
acquaintance with a wide range of methods and the knack of 
carrying a good wrinkle from one business to another. He brings 
the outside point of view; and, because modern business runs 
toward narrow specialization, the outside point of view is pretty 
nearly always welcome, provided it is honest and sensible. 

In another case he had to dig and invent to meet a peculiar 
situation. 

There was a coal company working under a handicap in house- 
hold deliveries. Where a residence stood back from the sidewalk 
coal had often to be carried from the motor truck in baskets. 
This kept the truck waiting nearly an hour. A motor truck's 



352 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

time is worth several dollars hourly. If the coal could have been 
dumped on the sidewalk and carried in later, releasing the truck, 
that would have saved expense and made more deliveries possi- 
ble. 

A city ordinance prohibited dumping coal on the sidewalk ex- 
cept by permit. Coal men had never tried to have that ordi- 
nance changed. But the salesman-adviser went straight to the 
city authorities and, by figures showing the expense and waste 
involved, secured a modification, so that his customer, the coal 
company, got a blanket permit for dumping coal and gave bonds 
as an assurance against abuse of the privilege. Then a little old 
last year's runabout was bought and followed the coal trucks 
with a crew to carry the coal indoors, clearing sidewalks quickly. 

This salesman-adviser's philosophy was as simple as it was 
sound. Confidence is the big factor in selling, he reasoned. 
Your customer will have confidence in you if he feels that you are 
square and also knows what you are talking about. By diligent 
study of gasoline hauling problems in various fines of business he 
gained practical knowledge and after that had only to apply his 
knowledge from the customer's side of the problem. 

"Put it another way," he said: ''Suppose you had a factory 
and expected to run it only one year. There would not be time 
to get returns on a costly machine showing economies over a five- 
year period; but if you intended to run your factory on a five- 
year basis, then that machine might be highly profitable. 

"In sales work it was just the same; if you were selling for this 
year's profit alone, you'd close every sale regardless of your cus- 
tomer's welfare. Let the purchaser beware! But if you meant 
to sell on the five-year basis, then confidence is the big invest- 
ment, and the most profitable sale very often one you refuse to 
make for immediate results." 

He had a fine following when the draft reached him; and dur- 
ing the eight months he spent in an Army uniform he utilized his 
knowledge of gasoline transportation as an expert in Uncle Sam's 
motor service. Upon being discharged he returned to his job 
and his customers, and to-day the concern with which he is con- 
nected is taking steps to put all its motor-truck salesmen on this 
advisory basis. 

War shot its sales force to pieces ^^ the Army and the Navy 
reached out for men and tied up production facilities; so there 
was nothing to sell. But war also gave a clean §l^tie fof plaianing 
a new sales force. 



SALES WITHOUT SALESMANSHIP 353 

As old salesmen return and new men are taken on for sales in- 
struction, this concern trains them — not with the old sales man- 
ual, by standard approach and systematic sales argiunent, but by 
sending them out into the field to study gasoline hauling prob- 
lems. They secure permission to investigate trucking methods 
of contractors, department stores, wholesale merchants, coal 
dealers, truck owners hauling interstate freight, mills, factories 
and other lines of business. They investigate the kinds and 
quantities of stuff to be moved, the territory and roads covered, 
the drivers, the garage facilities. They ride behind typical loads 
and check up running time, delays, breakdowns, gasoline and oil 
consumption. 

Engineering teaches people to think in curves. This young- 
ster had to make a curve of the grocer's trucking before he could 
visualize it himself. His curve included factors like increase in 
stuff that had been hauled during the past three years and addi- 
tions to the motor equipment. When you have a healthy curve 
showing any business activity, the logical thing to do, after 
bringing it right down to date, is to let it run out into the future 
at its own angle. This was done with the grocery curve, and its 
future extension indicated that not more than three months later 
the grocery house would need about four more five-ton motor 
trucks. 

Closer investigation of facts behind the curve revealed an un- 
usual growth in sugar hauling, due to the increase in supply and 
removal of consumer war restrictions. And that grocery concern 
bought additional trucks for sugar within two months. With 
the insight made possible by such a curve a salesman might 
safely have ordered the trucks without his customer's knowledge 
and driven them up to his door the day the curve showed they 
were needed. 

''Here are the trucks you wanted to haul that sugar." 

''Good work! Drive 'em in!" 

What has been found to be sound sales policy in the mo- 
tor truck business applies to many other lines. Yesterday the 
salesman of technical apparatus sought the customer with a cata- 
logue and a smile — and a large ignorance of the technical prob- 
lems. To-day that kind of selling is under suspicion, because 
pm-chasers of technical equipment have been led to buy on super- 
ficial selling points and left to work out for themselves complex 
technicalities that belong to the manufacturer of the equip- 
ment. 



354 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

In the West during recent years a large number of pumps of a 
certain type have been sold for irrigating purposes. Purchasers 
bought from the catalogue-and-smile type of salesman, hooked 
their pumps up to a power plant — and found that they lifted 
only about half the number of gallons a minute promised in the 
catalogue. Manufacturers honestly believed those pumps would 
do the work indicated in theu* ratings. They had not allowed for 
variations in capacity where pumps were installed under many 
different conditions and run by different men. The situation 
called for investigation at the customer's end; when it was dis- 
covered that these pumps ought to be rated with an allowance for 
loss of capacity a half to two-thirds of the power, due to friction 
and lost power. 

It might have been dangerous for the salesman to show up 
again in an irrigation district where a lot of his pumps were "act- 
ing up/' armed only with his catalogue and smile. But when an 
engineer appeared from the pump company to help customers 
out of their difficulties, he won confidence immediately and made 
additional sales because people felt that he knew what he was 
talking about. 

The superintendent of a big machinery concern found that his 
expense for cutting oils was constantly rising. Salesmen had 
followed salesmen, recommending magic brands of the stuff; yet 
each new barrel of oil seemed to do less work than the last — and 
cost more in dollars. 

One day a new kind of visitor showed up and sent in the card 
of a large oil company. He was not a salesman, but an investiga- 
tor of oil problems. The superintendent took him through the 
plant. He studied the work being done by screw-cutting ma- 
chines, lathes and other equipment operated with cutting oil. 
Where salesmen had recommended brands without technical 
knowledge of either the work to be done or the composition of 
the oil, this stranger wrote specifications that cut down the per- 
centage of costly lard oil used on some work; and he eliminated it 
altogether on others. 

Moreover, he pointed out sheer losses of oil by picking up a 
handful of metal cuttings from a box, letting them drip, measur- 
ing the oil that accumulated and recoramending a simple device 
for reclaiming that oil before the waste metal was sold. 

This new viewpoint in selling is developing in so many lines 
that to enumerate them would be to make a national directory of 
business concerns manufacturing miUing machinery, ofiice de- 



SALES WITHOUT SALESMANSHIP d55 

vices, manufacturing and structural materials, equipment for the 
farm and the mine. 

People who purchase such products have been accustomed to 
meeting two different representatives of manufacturers: First, 
the salesman skilled in selling, but deficient in technical knowl- 
edge. 

"This chap is here to see how much he can get out of me/' said 
the prospective consumer to himself; and he was on his guard to 
see that the visitor got as little as possible, either in the way of 
orders or information. 

The other representative came from the mechanical depart- 
ment to see how present equipment was running, or perhaps to 
"shoot trouble." He was long on technical knowledge, but 
probably dumb when it came to salesmanship. 

"This fellow is here to help me out of my troubles," said the 
customer. "I'll see how much I can get out of him." 

Presently manufacturers of equipment woke up to the fact 
that their mechanical men — inspectors and trouble shooters — 
had a basis of confidence which the salesman pure and simple was 
rapidly losing. Moreover, the technical man gained a knowledge 
of the customer's requirements that furnished the best founda- 
tion for selling new equipment. 

The salesman discovered the technical man and went to him 
for tips on new equipment needed by customers whose plants he 
had visited. The technical man also discovered the salesman, 
for it was plain enough that equipment well sold — skillfully ad- 
justed to the customer's needs — gave the least margin for trou- 
ble shooting. 

So there has been a meeting of minds; and to-day the salesman 
studies the technicalities, and the technical man is learning sales- 
manship, and their boss is standing behind them both with a new 
policy. This is the policy of performance, not promises — serv- 
ice before sales. Under that policy the very terms salesmanship 
and sales department are beginning to disappear, to be replaced 
by new nomenclature, which more accurately indicates what a 
manufacturer's representative can do for the customer, and gives 
him access to the latter on the basis of confidence and good will. 



356 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

{Munsey's Magazine) 

THE ACCIDENT THAT GAVE US WOOD-PULP 

PAPER 

How a Mighty Modem Industry Owed its Begin- 
ning to Gottfried Keller and a Wasp 

By PARKE F. HANLEY 

On the day when President Wilson was inaugurated to his 
second term, this country had its fiftieth anniversary of the in- 
troduction of wood-pulp. Were it not for a series of lucky 
chances that developed into opportunity, this wood-pulp anni- 
versary might have remained for our children's children. 

Have you ever given thought to the accidentalism of many 
great discoveries? The element of haphazard is generally com- 
bined with a series of coincidences. Looking back over the de- 
velopments that led to gigantic contributions to our civilization, 
one cannot fail to be struck by the coordination of events. Ap- 
parently there always has been a conspiracy of natural forces to 
compel men of thought and resourcefulness to add another asset 
to progress. 

Your earliest school readers have been full of these — for in- 
stance. Watt and his steam-kettle, Franklin and his kite. Now 
the youngsters are reading that the Wrights derived a funda- 
mental principle of aviation — the warping-tip — from the flight 
of crows. With the awe comes a disquieting thought. How far 
back should we be were it not for these fortuitous circumstances? 

Among all the great things that have been given to the world 
in the last three-quarters of a century, few measure beside the 
wood-pulp industry. With its related trades and sciences, it is 
comprised withm the ten great activities of mankind. In manu- 
facture and distribution, it employs an army matching in size 
the Russian battle hordes. Its figures of investment and produc- 
tion are comparable to the debts of the great war. 

Yet it remained for a wasp and Gottfried Keller to bring us out 
of the era of rag paper. Together, they saved us from a retarda- 
tion of universal thought. Therefore, let us consider the agents. 

First, the wasp. She was one of a family of several hundreds, 
born in the Hartz Mountains in the year 1839. When death 
claimed most of her relatives at the end of the season allotted as 
the life of a wasp, this survivor, a queen wasp, became the found- 



ACCIDENT GAVE US WOOD-PULP PAPER 357 

ress of a family of her own. She built her nest of selected wood- 
fibers, softened them to a pulp with her saliva, and kneaded them 
into cells for her larvae. Her family came forth in due course, 
and their young wings bore them out into the world. The nest, 
having served its purpose, was abandoned to the sun and the rain. 

Maeterlinck, who attributes emotions to plants and souls to 
bees, might wrap a drama of destiny about this insect. She 
would command a leading place in a cast which included the but- 
terfly that gave silk to the world, the mosquito that helped to 
prove the germ theory of disease, and the caterpillar that loosed 
the apple which revealed the law of gravitation to Sir Isaac New- 
ton. 

As to Keller, he was a simple German, by trade a paper-maker 
and by avocation a scientist of sorts. One day in 1840 — and 
this marks the beginning of the accidents — returning home from 
his mill, he trod upon the abandoned nest. Had not the tiny 
dwelling been deserted, he probably would have cherished noth- 
ing but bitter reflections about the irascibihty of wasps. As it 
was, he stooped to see the ruin he had wrought. 

The crushed nest lay soft in his hand, soft and pliable, and yet 
tough in texture. It was as soft as his own rag-made paper. It 
was not paper, and yet it was very much like paper. Crumbling 
it in his fingers, he decided that its material was wood-pulp. 

Keller was puzzled to know how so minute a creature had 
welded wood into a paperlike nest. His state of mind passed to 
interest, thence to speculation, and finally to investigation. He 
carried his problem and its possibilities to his friend, Heinrich 
Voelter, a master mechanic. Together they began experiments. 
They decided to emulate the wasp. They would have to granu- 
late the wood as she had done. The insect had apparently used 
spruce; they used spruce under an ordinary grindstone. Hot 
water served as a substitute for the wasp's salivary juices. 

Their first attempts gave them a pulp astonishingly similar to 
that resulting from the choicest rags. They carried the pulp 
through to manufacture, with a small proportion of rags added — 
and they had paper. It was good paper, paper that had strength. 
They found that it possessed an unlooked-for advantage in its 
quick absorption of printing-ink. 

Have you followed the chain of accidents, coincidences, and 
fortunate circumstances.? Suppose the wasp had not left her 
nest m Keller's path. What if he had been in haste, or had been 
driven off by the queen's yellow-jacketed soldiers? What if he 



358 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

had no curiosity, if he had not been a paper-maker, if he had not 
enjoyed acquaintance with Voelter? Wood-pulp might never 
have been found. 

Leaving Gottfried Keller and Voelter in their hour of success, 
we find, sixteen years afterward, two other Germans, Albrecht 
and Rudolf Pagenstecher, brothers, in the export trade in New 
York. They were pioneering in another field. They were ship- 
ping petroleum to Europe for those rising young business men, 
John D. and Wilham Rockefeller. They were seeking commodi- 
ties for import when their cousin, Alberto Pagenstecher, arrived 
from the fatherland with an interesting bit of news. 

"A few weeks ago, in a paper-mill in the Hartz, I found them 
using a new process," he said. ''They are making paper out of 
wood. It serves. Germany is printing its newspapers on wood- 
pulp paper." 

To his cousins it seemed preposterous that wood could be so 
converted, but Alberto was convincing. He showed them Voel- 
ter's patent grants and pictures of the grinders. The Pagen- 
stechers went to Germany, and when they returned they brought 
two of the grinders — crude affairs devised for the simple purpose 
of pressing wood upon a stone. They also brought with them 
several German mechanics. 

A printer in New York, named Strang, had already secured the 
United States rights of the new process. He was engaged in the 
manufacture of calendered paper, and, therefore, had no occasion 
to use wood-pulp; so he was willing to surrender the patents in 
exchange for a small interest. 

The Pagenstechers wanted water-power for their grinders, and 
they located their first mill beside Stockbridge Bowl, in Curtis- 
ville, now Interlaken, Massachusetts. On an outlay of eleven 
thousand dollars their mill was built and their machinery in- 
stalled. Two or three trials, with cotton waste added to the 
ground wood, gave them their paper. Their first product was 
completed on the 5th of March, 1867. 

It was a matter of greater difficulty to dispose of the stock. 
The trade fought against the innovation. Finally Wellington 
Smith, of the near-by to\\m of Lee, Massachusetts, was persuaded 
to try it. Rag-paper had been selling at twenty-four cents a 
pound. Smith's mill still exhibits the first invoice with the Pa- 
genstechers, wliich shows the pui'chase of wood-paper at eleven 
cents. 

The paper was hauled to Lee in the dead of night, for Smith's 



ACCIDENT GAVE US WOOD-PULP PAPER 359 

subordinates wished to spare him from the laughter of his fellow 
millmen. It was sold, and proved successful, and the Pagen- 
stechers were rushed with orders. They built a second mill in 
Luzerne, New York, but abandoned it soon afterward for the 
greater water-power to be obtained at Palmer's Falls, where now 
stands the second largest mill in the United States. 

Manufacturers tumbled over themselves to get the benefit of 
the new process. The originators in this country held the patent 
rights until 1884, letting them out on royalties until that time. 
With each new plant the price of paper fell, until at one period it 
sold at one and a half cents a pound. 

Trial had proved that spruce was the only suitable wood for 
the pulp. Until 1891 rags were combined in about one-quarter 
proportion. Then it was found that other coniferous woods 
might be used to replace the rags, after being submitted to what 
is called the sulfite process. In this treatment small cubes of 
wood, placed in a vat, have their resinous properties extracted, 
and the wood is disintegrated. A combination of ground and 
sulfite wood makes the paper now used for news-print. 

As has been told, the primary advantage of the wood-pulp pa- 
per was its immediate absorption of ink. This made possible 
much greater speed in printing, and led in turn to the develop- 
ment of the great modern newspaper and magazine presses, fed 
by huge rolls of paper, which they print on both sides simultane- 
ously. These wonderful machines have now reached the double- 
octuple stage — monsters capable of turning out no less than five 
thousand eight-page newspapers in a single minute, or three hun- 
dred thousand in an hour. 

With the evolution from the flat-bed to the web or rotary 
presses there came further development in typesetting-machines 
— the Unotype, the monotype, and others. With paper and 
presses brought to such simplification, newspapers have sprouted 
in every town, almost every village, and the total number of 
American periodicals is counted by tens of thousands. There 
are magazines that have a circulation of more than a million cop- 
ies weekly. The leading daily newspapers in New York print 
anywhere from one hundred thousand copies to four times as 
many, and they can put extra editions on the streets at fifteen- 
minute intervals. 

The aggregate circulation of daily newspapers in the United 
States is close to forty million copies. Weekly newspapers and 
periodicals reach fifty millions, and monthly pubUcations mount 



360 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

almost to one hundred millions; and all this would be impossible 
without wood-pulp paper. 

The annual production of wood-pulp in the United States and 
Canada is estimated by Albrecht Pagenstecher, the survivor of 
the innovators, to be worth nearly five hundred miUions of dol- 
lars. Take into consideration the hundreds of thousands em- 
ployed in the mills, the men who cut and bring in the raw product, 
the countless number in the printing, pubhshing, and distribut- 
ing trades. Then hark back to the accident that put the wasp's 
nest under the toe of Gottfried Keller! 



(Providence Journal) 

One zinc-etching illustration reproducing an old wood-cut of the 
ship, with the caption, "The Savannah, First Steamship That 
Crossed the Ocean." 

CENTENNIAL OF THE FIRST STEAMSHIP TO 
CROSS THE ATLANTIC 

(7-column head) 

One hundred years ago this week there was launched at New 
York the ship Savannah, which may be called the father of the 
scores of steamers that are now carrying our soldiers and suppHes 
from the New World to the Old World. 

The Savannah was the first ship equipped with steam power to 
cross the Atlantic ocean. It made the trip in 25 days, using both 
sails and engine, and the arrival of the strange craft at Liverpool 
was the cause of unusual stir among our English cousins. Like 
every step from the beaten path the idea of steam travel between 
the New World and the Old World was looked upon with much 
scepticism and it was not until about 20 years later that regular, 
or nearly regular, steamer service was estabHshed. 

The launching of the Savannah took place on Aug. 22, 1818. 
It was not accompanied by the ceremony that is accorded many 
of the boats upon similar occasions to-day. As a matter of fact, 
it is probable that only a few persons knew that the craft was in- 
tended for a transatlantic trip. The keel of the boat was laid 
with the idea of building a sailing ship, and the craft was practi- 
cally completed before Capt. Moses Rogers, the originator of the 
venture, induced Scarborough & Isaacs, ship merchants of Sa- 



FIRST STEAMSHIP TO CROSS THE ATLANTIC 361 

vannah, to buy her and fit her with a steam engine for service be- 
tween Savannah and Liverpool. 

The ship, which was built by Francis Fickett, was 100 feet 
long, 28 feet broad and 14 feet deep. It had three masts which, 
of course, were of far greater importance in making progress 
toward its destination than was the steam engine. 

Capt. Rogers had gained a reputation for great courage and 
skill in sailmg. He had already had the honor of navigating the 
sea with a steamer, taking the New Jersey from New York to the 
Chesapeake in 1816, a voyage which was then thought to be one 
of great danger for such a vessel. 

It was natural, then, that he was especially ambitious to go 
down in history as the first master of a steam ship to cross the 
ocean. As soon as the vessel had been purchased by the Sa- 
vannah ship merchants, the work of installing the engine was be- 
gun. This was built by Stephen Vail of Speedwell, N.J., and the 
boiler by David Dod of Elizabeth, N.J. 

The paddle-wheels were made of iron and were " detachable, '^ 
so that the sections could be removed and laid on the deck. This 
was done when it was desired to proceed under canvas exclu- 
sively and was also a precaution in rough weather. 

In short, the Savannah was an auxiliary steamer, a combina- 
tion of steam and sail that later became well known in shipping. 
This is much like the early development of the gasoline marine 
engine, which was an auxiUary to the sail, a combination that is 
still used. 

Capt. Rogers took the boat from New York to Savannah in 
eight days and 15 hours, using steam on this trip for 41^ hours. 
On May 26, 1819, under Capt. Rogers, the Savannah set sail 
from her home port for Liverpool and made the trip in 25 days. 

As long as the trip took, the voyage was considerably shorter 
than the average for the sailing ship in 1819, and this reduction 
in time was accomplished in spite of the fact that the Savannah 
ran into much unfavorable weather. Capt. Rogers used steam 
on 18 of the 25 days and doubtless would have resorted to engine 
power more of the time except for the fact that at one stage of 
the voyage the fuel was exhausted. 

It was natural that the arrival of the steamer in English waters 
should not have been looked upon with any great favor by the 
Englishmen. In addition to the jeers of the sceptical, the pres- 
ence of vessels was accompanied by suspicion on the part of the 
naval authorities, and the merchants were not favorably impressed r 



362 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

When the Savannah approached the EngUsh coast with her 
single stack giving forth volumes of dense black smoke, it was 
thought by those on shore that she was a ship on fire, and British 
men-of-war and revenue cutters set out to aid her. When the 
truth was known, consternation reigned among the English offi- 
cers. They were astonished at the way the craft steamed away 
from them after they had rushed to assist what they thought was 
a ship in distress. 

The reception of the Savannah at Liverpool was not particu- 
larly cordial. Some of the newspapers even suggested that "this 
steam operation may, in some manner, be connected with the 
ambitious views of the United States." 

A close watch was kept on the boat while she lay in British 
waters, and her departure was welcome. In the second volume 
of "Memoranda of a Residence at the Court of St. James," Rich- 
ard Rush, then American Minister in London, includes a com- 
plete log of the Savannah. Dispatch No. 76 from Minister Rush 
reports the arrival of the ship and the comment that was caused 
by its presence as follows: 

London, July 3, 1819. 
Sir — On the 20th of last month arrived at Liverpool from 
the United States the steamship Savannah, Capt. Rogers, 
being the first vessel of that description that ever crossed the 
sea, and having excited equal admiration and astonishment 
as she entered port under the power of her steam. 

She is a fine ship of 320 tons burden and exhibits in her 
construction, no less than she has done in her navigation 
across the Atlantic, a signal trophy of American enterprise 
and skill upon the ocean. 

I learn from Capt. Rogers, who has come to London and 
been with me, that she worked with great ease and safety on 
the voyage, and used her steam full 18 days. 

Her engine acts horizontally and is equal to a 72 horse- 
power. Her wheels, which are of iron, are on the sides, and 
removable at pleasure. The fuel laid in was 1500 bushels 
of coal, which got exhausted on her entrance into the Irish 
Channel. 

The captain assures me that the weather in general was 
extremely unfavorable, or he would have made a much 
shorter passage; besides that, he was five days delayed in the 
channel for want of coal. 
I have the honor to be, etc., Richard Rush. 



FIRST STEAMSHIP TO CROSS THE ATLANTIC 863 

To have made the first voyage across the Atlantic Ocean under 
steam was a great accompHshment and brought no Httle credit to 
Capt. Rogers and the United States. Pioneers in many ven- 
tures, the American people had added another honor to their 
record. And this was even more of a credit because in those 
early days skilled workmen were comparatively few on these 
shores and the machine shops had not reached a stage of effi- 
ciency that came a short time later. 

There were, of course, in 1819 men who had developed into 
mechanics and there were shops of some account, as the steam- 
boat for short trips had been in existence for some years. But 
the whole enterprise of planning a steam voyage in which the 
boat should be headed due east was characteristic of the boldness 
and bravery of the Americans. 

The Savannah did not return to the States directly from Eng- 
land. It steamed from Liverpool to St. Petersburg and brought 
forth further comment from the Old World. She proved that 
the marine steam engine and side-wheels were practicable for 
deep-sea navigation. The idea of transatlantic travel under 
steam had been born and it was only necessary to develop the 
idea to "shorten the distance" between the two continents. 

This pioneer voyage, however, was then looked upon more as a 
novelty than as the inception of a new method of long-distance 
travel. The trip had failed to demonstrate that steam was an 
entirely adequate substitute for the mast and sail in regular 
service. 

Since the Savannah was primarily a sailing vessel, the loss of 
steam power by the crippling of the engine would not be serious, 
as she could continue on her way with paddle-wheels removed 
and under full sail. 

It was 19 years later that the idea of employing vessels pro- 
pelled by steam in trade between the United States and England 
came under the serious consideration of merchants and ship 
builders. In the interval the marine boiler and the engines had 
been improved until they had passed the stage of experiment, 
and coasting voyages had become common on both sides of the 
Atlantic. 

The beginning of real transatlantic steam voyages was made 
by the Sirius and the Great Western. The Utter boat had been 
built especially for trips across the ocean and the former was 
taken from the Cork and London line. The Sirius started from 
Liverpool on April 4, 1838, and the Great Western four days 



364 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

later. They arrived in New York within 24 hours of each other, 
the Sirius at 10 p.m. on April 22 and the Great Western at 3 
o'clock the following afternoon. Neither of the vessels carried 
much sail. 

These boats gave more or less irregular service until with- 
disivm because of their failure to pay expenses. In 1839 the 
Cunard Company was formed and the paddle steamers Britan- 
nia, Arcadia, Columbia, and Caledonia were put into service. 

From that time on the steamer developed with great rapidity, 
the value of which was never more demonstrated than at the 
present time. It will always be remembered, however, that this 
Capt. Rogers with his crude httle Savannah was the man 
whose bold enterprise gave birth to the idea of transatlantic 
travel under steam. 



(A syndicate Sunday magazine section of the Harrishurg Patriot) 

SEARCHING FOR THE LOST ATLANTIS 

By GROSVENOR A. PARKER 

Not so long ago a stubby tramp steamer nosed its way down 
the Enghsh Channel and out into the Atlantic. Her rusty black 
bow sturdily shouldered the seas aside or shoved through them 
with an insistence that brought an angry hail of spray on deck. 
The tramp cared little for this protest of the sea or for the threats 
of more hostile resistance. Through the rainbow kicked up by 
her forefoot there glimmered and beckoned a mirage of wealthy 
cities sunk fathoms deep and tenanted only by strange sea crea- 
tures. For the tramp and her crew there was a stranger goal 
than was ever sought by an argosy of legend. The lost cities of 
Atlantis and all the wealth that they contain was the port await- 
ing the searchers under the rim of the western ocean. 

It 's no wild-goose chase that had started thus unromantically. 
The men who hope to gain fame and fortune by this search are 
sure of their ground and they have all the most modern mechani- 
cal and electrical aids for their quest. On the decks of their ship 
two submarine boats are cradled in heavy timbers. One of them 
is of the usual tji^e, but the other looks like a strange fantasy of 
another Jules Verne. A great electric eye peers cyclops-wise over 
the bow and reaching ahead of the blunt nose are huge crab-like 
claws delicate enough to pick up a gold piece and strong enough 
to tear a wall apart. 



SEARCHING FOR THE LOST ATLANTIS 365 

These under-water craft are only a part of the equipment that 
Bernard Meeker, a young Englishman, has provided to help him 
in his search for the lost city. There are divers' uniforms spe- 
cially strengthened to resist the great pressure under which the 
men must work. Huge electric lamps hke searchlights to be low- 
ered into the ocean depths and give light to the workers are 
stacked close beside powerful generators in the ship's hold. In 
the chart room there are rolls of strange maps plotting out the 
ocean floor, and on a shelf by itself rests the tangible evidence 
that this search means gold. It is a little bowl of strange design 
which was brought up by a diver from the bottom of the Carib- 
bean. When this bowl first came to light it was supposed to be 
part of loot from a sunken Spanish galleon, but antiquarians 
could find nothing in the art of the Orient, or Africa, or of Peru 
and Mexico to bear out this theory. Even the gold of which 
it was made was an alloy of a different type from anything on 
record. 

It was this that gave Meeker his first idea that there was a city 
under the sea. He found out the exact spot from which the di- 
vers had recovered the bowl, and compared the reckonings with 
all the ancient charts which spoke of the location of fabled At- 
lantis. In one old book he located the lost city as being close to 
the spot where the divers had been, and with this as a foundation 
for his theories he asked other questions of the men who had ex- 
plored that hidden country. Their tale only confirmed his belief. 

"The floor of the sea is covered with unusual coral formation," 
one of them told him, "but it was the queerest coral I ever saw. 
It looked more like stone walls and there was a pointed sort of 
arch which was different from any coral arch I had ever seen." 

That was enough to take Meeker to the Caribbean to see for 
himself. He won't tell what he found, beyond the fact that he 
satisfied himself that the "coral" was really stone walls pierced 
by arched doors and windows. 

Meeker kept all his plans secret and might have sailed away on 
his treasure hunt without making any stir if he had not been 
careless enough to name one of his submarines "Atlantis." He 
had given out that he was sailing for Yucatan to search for evi- 
dence of prehistoric civilization. It is true that the shores of Yu- 
catan are covered with the remnants of great cities but the word 
"Atlantis" awoke suspicion. Questions followed and Meeker 
had to admit the bare facts of his secret. 

"Only half a dozen men know the supposed location of Atlan- 



366 SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

tis," he said, just before sailing, "and we don't intend to let any 
others into the secret. Those who have furnished the money for 
the expedition have done so in the hope of solving the mystery of 
the lost continent, and without thought for the profit. The di- 
vers and the other men of the crew have the wildest dreams of 
finding hoarded wealth. It is not at all impossible that their 
dreams will come true, and that they will be richly rewarded. At 
any rate they deserve it, for the work will be dangerous. 

"Our plans are simple enough. With the submarine of the 
usual type we will first explore that part of the sea bottom which 
our charts cover. This vessel has in its conning tower a powerful 
searchHght which will reveal at least the upper portions of any 
buildings that may be there. For work in greater depths we will 
have to depend on the 'Atlantis' with its special equipment of 
ballast tanks and its hatch-ways for the divers. 

"You see, we do not plan to lower the divers from the steamer 
or from a raft. Instead they will step directly out on the sea floor 
from a door in the submarine which opens out of an air chamber. 
In this the diver can be closed and the air pressure increased until 
it is high enough to keep out the water. All that he has to do 
then is to open the door and step out, trailing behind him a much 
shorter air hose and life line than would hamper him if he worked 
from the surface. The air hose is armored with steel links so 
that there will be no danger of an inquisitive shark chopping it in 
two." 

Previous to the diver's exploration the claws of the "Atlantis" 
will search out the more promising places in the ruins. These 
claws work on a joint operated electrically, and on the tip of each 
is a sensitive electrical apparatus which sets off a signal in the 
conning tower of the submarine. Crawling over the bottom like 
a strange monster, the claws will also help to avoid collisions with 
walls when the depths of the water veils the power of the search- 
Ught. 

There is, in addition, a small electric crane on the nose of the 
submarine so that heavy objects can be borne to the surface. 
Meeker does not expect to gain much in the way of heavy relics 
of the lost city, for certain parts of the sea bottom are so covered 
with ooze that he believes it only possible to clear it away through 
suction hose long enough to make quick observation possible. 
The subaqueous lights which will help this work are powerful 
Tungsten lamps enclosed in a steel shell with a heavy prismatic 
lens at the bottom. These lamps are connected to the power 



SEARCHING FOR THE LOST ATLANTIS S67 

plant on the steamer by armored cables and will develop 5,000 
candle power each. 

The generating station on the parent ship of the expedition, as 
the rusty tramp is known, is as extensive as those on a first class 
liner or a dreadnought. Little of the power will go for the benefit 
of the steamer though. Its purpose is to furnish the fight for the 
swinging Tungstens and to charge the great storage batteries of 
the submarines. These batteries run the many motors on which 
depends the success of the work. If it were not for electricity, 
the searchers would be handicapped. As it is they call to their 
aid all the strong magic of modern days. 



INDEX 



"Accident that Gave Us Wood- 
Pulp Paper, The," 356 

Adventure as a source of interest, 41. 

Agricultural journals, 11, 20, 23; 
articles in, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 
78; examples of articles in, 81, 
248, 341 ; excerpts from, 127, 128, 
156 

Aims in feature writing, 46 

Alliteration in titles, 179 

Amateur writers, opportunities 
for, 7, 12 

American Magazine, articles from, 
76, 87; excerpt from, 158 

Amusements as a source of interest, 
42 

Analysis of articles on factory 
school, 107, 116 

Analysis of special articles, 22; out- 
line for, 201 

Animals as a source of interest, 41 

Appeals, kinds of, 39 ; combinations 
of, 45 

"Arbor Day Advice," 57 

Arrangement of material, 101 

Balance in titles, 179 
"Bedroom in Burlap, A," 68 
Beginnings, 131; structure of, 131; 

types of, 132 
Boston Herald, article from, 204 
Boston Transcript, articles from, 

209, 326 ; excerpt from, 145 
"Boys in Search of Jobs," 209 
"Brennan Mono-Rail Car,*' 274 
Browning, John M., personality 

sketch of, 89 
" By Parcel Post," 341 

Camera, use of, for illustrations, 

194 
Captions for illustrations, 196 
."Centennial of First Steamship to 

Cross the Atlantic," 360 
Chicago Tribune, excerpt from, 159 



Children as a source of interest, 41 
Christian Science Monitor, article 

from, 206 
Clark, Thomas Arkle, personality 

sketch of, 87 
Class publications, 11, 20, 23 
College training for writing, 16 
Collier's Weekly, excerpt from, 139 
Collins, James H., article by, 349 
Confession articles, 32, 70; ex- 
amples of, 71 
"Confessions of a College Pro- 
fessor's Wife," 307 
Contests for supremacy as a source 

of interest, 41 
Correspondents as feature writers, 

6 
Cosgrove, John O'Hara, on Sunday 

magazine sections, 9 
"County Service Station, A," 248 
Country Gentleman, articles from, 

248, 341; excerpt from, 156 
Cover page for manuscripts, 183; 

form for, 184 
Crime, presentation of, 47 
Curiosity as a qualification for 
writers, 15 

Definition of special feature article, 
4 

Delineator, article from, 293; ex- 
cerpt from, 152 

Descriptive beginnings, 138 

Designer, article from, 68 

Detroit News, article from, 260; ex- 
cerpt from, 125 

Diction, 161 

Direct address beginnings, 157 

Direct address titles, 178 

Drawings for illustrations, 197; 
mailing of, 197 

Eaton, Walter Prichard, article by, 

326 
Editorial readers, 187 



370 



INDEX 



Editors, point of view of, 19 
Entertainment as purpose of ar- 
ticles, 47; wholesome, 47 
Ethics of feature writing, 23, 47 
Everybody' s Magazine, article from, 

281 
Every Week, article from, 72 
Examples, methods of presenting, 

118 
Exposition by narration and de- 
scription, 52 

Factory school, articles on, 102, 
107, 115 

Familiar things as a source of in- 
terest, 42 

Farm and Fireside, article from, 81 

Farm journals, 11, 20, 23, 78; ar- 
ticles in, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34; 
examples of articles in, 81, 248, 
341; excerpts from, 127, 128, 156 

Figures of speech, as element of 
style, 163; in beginnings, 144; in 
titles, 176 

Filing material, 38 

"Forty Years Bartered for What?" 
76 

"Four Men of Humble Birth Hold 
World Destiny," 305 

Free-Lance writers, 6 

Gardiner, A. G., personality sketch 

of former kaiser by, 166, 167 
"Gentle Art of Blowing Bottles, 

The," 233 
Gibbon, Perceval, article by, 274 
"Girls and a Camp," 213 
Good Housekeeping, excerpts from, 

141, 151 
Greeley Smith, Nixola, article by, 

115 
"Guarding a City's Water Supply," 

260 

Harper^s Monthly, excerpt from, 

150 
Harper's Weekly, excerpt from, 146 
Hartswick, F. Gregory, article by, 

233 
Headlines, 170; types of, 173; 

methods of framing, 180 
Hendrick, Burton J., article by, 53 



How-to-do-something articles, 49, 

78; examples of, 68, 79 
How-to-do-something units, 127 
Hungerford, Edward, article by, 

218 

Ideals in feature writing, 23, 47 

Illustrated World, excerpt from, 144 

Illustrations, value of, 193; photo- 
graphs for, 194; requirements for, 
195; captions for, 196; mailing of, 
197 

Imperative beginnings, 157 

Imperative titles, 178 

Incidents, methods of presenting, 
122 

Independent, article from, 233; ex- 
cerpt from, 140 

Indian princess, interview with, 59 

Information, trivial vs. significant, 
49 

Informative articles, 49 

Instances, methods of presenting, 
118 

Interest, sources of, 39 

Interview type of article, 56; ex- 
amples of, 57 

Interview on Arbor Day, 57; with 
Indian princess, 59 

"Job Lady, The," 293 
Journalism, college courses in, 17 
"Just Like Pocahontas of 300 Years 
Ago," 59 

Kaempffert, Waldemar, on scientific 

subjects, 27 
Kansas City Star, article from, 299; 

excerpts from, 133, 145, 147, 154 

Label titles, 173 

Length of articles, 100 

Leslie's Weekly, excerpts from, 135, 

148, 157 
London Daily News, excerpt from, 

166, 167 

Magazines, as field for articles, 11; 

contributors to, 11; study of, 21 
Manuscripts, form for, 182, 184; 

mailing, 186; in editorial offices; 

187; rejected, 188; accepted, 189 



INDEX 



371 



Manuscript record, 190 
McClure's Magazine, article from, 

274; excerpts from, 53, 151 
McClure Newspaper Syndicate, 192 
"Mark Twain's First Sweetheart,' 

299 
Milwaukee Journal^ article from 

305 
Munsey^s Magazine, article from 

356; excerpts from, 136, 139 
Mysteries as a source of interest, 40 

Narrative article in third person, 91 ; 

examples of, 92 
Narrative beginnings, 134 
"Neighborhood Playhouse, The," 

240 
"New Political Wedge, A," 281 
Newspaper Enterprise Association, 

192; articles from, 89, 115; ex- 
cerpt from, 152 
Newspaper Feature Service, 192; 

excerpt from, 155 
Newspaper work as training for 

magazine writing, 17 
Newspapers, as field for articles, 5; 

characteristics of, 8; Sunday 

magazine sections of, 9; study of, 

21 ; as source of subjects, 33 
New York Evening Post, articles 

from, 213, 242; excerpt from, 

150 
New York Evening Sun, excerpt 

from, 154 
New York Sun, article from, 336 
New York Times, excerpts from, 

119, 337, 145, 155, 158 
New York Tribune, excerpts from, 

129, 141 
New York World, articles from, 92, 

240; excerpt from, 133 
Nose for news in feature writing, 

14 
Notebook, value of, 37 
"Now the Public Kitchen," 92 

Observation, personal, as a source of 
subjects and material, 28 

"Occupation and Exercise Cure, 
The," 264 

Official documents as a source of 
material, 34 



Ohio State Journal, article from, 
59 

Origin of special feature articles, 
3 

Outline for analysis of feature ar- 
ticles, 201 

Outline of articles on factory schools, 
105-07 

Outlining articles, value of, 99; 
method of, 105 

Outlook, articles from, 95, 264; ex- 
cerpts from, 126, 133, 135, 146, 
156 

Overline for illustrations, 197 

"Paradise for a Penny, A," 326 

Paradoxical beginnings, 144 

Paradoxical titles, 175 

Paragraphs., length and structure 
of, 168 

Payment, rate of, 7; time of, 190 

Personality sketches, 85; examples 
of, 87 

Personal experience articles, 62; 
examples of, 63 

Personal experience as a soiirce of 
subjects, 30 

Personal observation as a source of 
subjects, 28 

Personal success as a source of in- 
terest, 43 

Philadelphia Public Ledger, excerpt 
from, 130 

Photographs, value of, 193; secur- 
ing, 194; requirements for, 195; 
sizes of, 195; captions for, 196; 
mailing of, 197 

Pictorial Review, article from, 331 

Planning an article, 99, 102 

Popular Science Monthly, excerpt 
from, 147 

Practical guidance articles, 49, 78; 
examples of, 79 

Practical guidance units, 127 

Processes, methods of presenting, 
125 

Prominence as a source of interest, 
42 

Providence Journal, article from, 
360; excerpt from, 142 

Purpose, definiteness of, 45; state- 
ment of, 50 



372 



INDEX 



Qualifications for feature writing, 
14 

Question beginnings, 153 

Question titles, 177 

Quiller-Couch, Sir Arthur, on jar- 
gon, 163 

Quotation beginnings, 149 

Quotation titles, 176 

Railroad Man's Magazine, excerpt 

from, 148 
Readers, editorial, 187 
Readers, point of view of, 19, 20 
Recipes, methods of presenting, 

127 
Reporters as feature writers, 6, 17 
Revision of articles, 168 
Rhyme in titles, 179 
Romance as a source of interest, 

41 

"Sales without Salesmanship," 

349 
San Francisco Call, excerpt from, 

155 
Saturday Evening Post, articles from, 

218, 307, 349 
Scandal, presentation of, 47 
Scientific publications as a source 

of subjects and material, 27, 35 
•'Searching for the Lost Atlantis," 

364 
Sentences, structure of, 165 ; length 

of, 166 
Shepherd, William G., article by, 

305 
Siddall, John M., on curiosity, 15; 

on readers' point of view, 21; on 

making articles personal, 45 
"Singular Story of the Mosquito 

Man, The," 242 
"Six Years of Tea Rooms," 336 
Slosson, Edwin E., on scientific and 

technical subjects, 27 
Sources of subjects and material, 

25 
Space rates for feature articles, 7 
Staff system on magazines, 11 
Statistics, methods of presenting, 

122 
Stevenson, Frederick Boyd, on Sun- 
day magazine sections, 10 



Stovaine, beginning of article on, 53 
Striking statement beginnings, 143 
Striking statement titles, 175 
Study of newspapers and magazines. 

21 
Style, 160 

Subjects for feature articles, 25 
Successful Fanning, excerpts from, 

127, 128 
Summary beginnings, 132 
Sunday magazine sections, 9 
Syndicates, 6, 192 
Syndicating articles, 191 
System, article from, 79; excerpt 

from, 137 

"Taking the School to 'the Fac- 
tory," 107 

"Teach Children Love of Art 
Through Story-TeUing," 204 

Technical publications as a source 
of subjects and material, 27, 35 

"Ten Acres and a Living," 81 

"They Call Me the 'Hen Editor,'" 
63 

"Things We Learned to Do With- 
out," 72 

Time of payment for articles, 190 

Timeliness in feature articles, 39 

Titles, 170; types of, 173; methods 
of framing, 180 

"Tommy — Who Enjoys Straight- 
ening Out Things," 87 

Tractor and Ga^ Engine Review, ex- 
cerpt from, 153 

Trade journals, 11, 23; articles in, 
30; article from, 79; excerpts 
from, 137, 153 

Training for feature writing, 16 

Types of beginnings, 131 

Types of special articles, 55 

Types of titles, 170 

Typographical style, 183 

Units in articles, 117 ' 

"Wanted: A Home Assistant," 331 
Weed, Inis H., article by, 281 
Welfare of other persons as a source 

of interest, 43 
Wheeler, Howard, on newspaper 

men as magazine writers, 18 



INDEX 



373 



" Where Girls Learn to Wield Spade 

and Hoe," 206 
White, Frank Marshall, article by, 

264 
"Who'll Do John's Work?" 79 
Woman's Home Companion, article 

from, 63 
Women as feature writers, 13 



"Wonderful America! Thinks Little 

Austrian," 116 
Words, choice of, 161 
Writers, opportunities for amateur, 

7, 12 

" Your Porter." 218 ' 



V 



ENGLISH FOR COLLEGE COURSES 

Talks on Writing English 

By Arlo Bates. First Series, ^1.50. Secoad Series, gi.50. 
A Handbook of Oral Reading 

By Lee Emerson Bassett, Associate Professor of English, Leland Stanford 

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By Gerhard R. Lomer, Ph.D., Instructor in English, School of Journalism, 

Columbia University, and Margaret Ashmun, Formerly Instructor in 

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A textbook in the technique of writing English, designed for use 
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By WiLLARD G. Bleyer, Professor of Journalism in the University of Wis- 
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